


SAND AND WATER

by Thorianna



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward First Times, Building Friendship, Character Death, Character Development, Choking, Christianity, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Desert, Family Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hot Weather, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Mad Max Series (Movies), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Loki is a mess, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Monks, Novices, Older Man/Younger Man, Out of Character, Parent Stephen Strange, Peter Parker is a nerd, Priests, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Redemption, Religion, Silver Fox, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Violence, Water, thirst for water and other things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorianna/pseuds/Thorianna
Summary: It’s the year of 3420 a.d. After a great nuclear war the world turned into a field of an endless desert and people fight for a drop of water everyday. Peter, a young monk, lives in a closed community and only knows peace and comfort. Tony is a genius visionary on a run, used to rough conditions. Two of these people have to survive and find a middle path between war and peace, chaos and order, death and life.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel), Peter Parker & Loki, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship, Tony Stark & Loki, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange
Comments: 35
Kudos: 75





	1. A man buried in sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Itfeelssogoodmrstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itfeelssogoodmrstark/gifts).



> Hey guys, after two years I’m finally sharing my Sand and Water fic! Enjoy and don’t forget to write a comment if you want to read more! ♥  
> Many thanks to @Vaguekiwi for BETA reading! ♥♥♥

* * *

"We should return, a sandstorm is coming," Peter heard a deep voice behind him. It was his prior, Father Stephen, a man with a long, pale face and dark hair embroidered with silver. He was covering his head with a tattered beige cape, a symbolic part of their religious habits. From the top of the dune he was standing on, Peter looked to the horizon. He saw Prior was right. An enormous cloud of dust was approaching; it was far enough for them to feel safe for a moment, but it was getting closer with every second.

Peter couldn't care less about the sandstorm. For someone as young as him, that was a future problem, before the storm came he had plenty of time. There was something much more interesting to him in the sands. A strange shimmering object was peeking out between the dunes and it caught his eye.

"Father Stephen, there's something down there," he pointed with his finger. His companion walked towards him, examining the place Peter was pointing with sharp eyes.  
"You're right, there is something," he conceded pensively.  
Peter asked, "Should we go and check it?"  
"I don't think so, it's probably just another piece of scrap. We can come back for it later after the storm goes away." Prior shook his head. But, just in case, he pulled a telescope out of the folds of his robe to take a better look. The wind began to blow stronger. Peter had to take his own cape and cover his head.  
"It looks like a person..." Stephen said after a while.  
"It does? Can I take a look?" Peter gasped and his hand moved like a snake, trying to grab the telescope. He stopped at the very last second, but Prior already noticed his actions. His silver eyes stared at Peter in offense.  
"Peter, just because you're my favourite, it doesn't mean you can behave this inappropriately."  
"Yes, Father, I'm sorry," the boy said with his eyes stuck to the ground. A second later the telescope dropped into his hands. "Thank you, Father!"  
  
He was correct, there was a body, partly hidden in the deep sand. A face covered by a piece of cloth, the torso was nearly buried.

"He's probably dead," Prior said bitterly. Peter scanned the body carefully through the telescope. Stephen seemed to be right, there was no movement. Bodies this deep in sand were always dead. Left for birds of prey or wild clans to loot.  
"Maybe we should go and make sure. Just in case." Peter said, turning at his mentor. "If he's alive, he won't make it through the sandstorm."  
"If he's alive, he's most likely a thug who will cut our throats for a drop of water," Stephen shook his head. "We should keep our distance."  
"How can you tell?"  
"My dear boy, everyone outside our Monastery is like this. Just because you only meet people serving Christ, doesn't mean it's the standard. But I don't think you would understand. You don't know the outside world." Stephen patted his shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Let's go."

Peter looked at the body and felt a deep sorrow in his heart. He knew it was bad to leave somebody who might be in need. That's what they’d always taught him at the Monastery. Why would they teach him this, if it didn't mean anything?

The storm was getting closer. Peter was about to follow his prior, turning at the man for the very last time, when a miracle happened. The man moved! His hand shook enough to make Peter sure it wasn't just wind.

"He's alive! Father Stephen, he's alive!"

Prior turned around with surprise. The boy didn't wait for his reaction and ran towards the man in the sand. He heard Prior yelling something at him but he didn't care. His gut told him what he was doing was right. Stephen ran after him, but Peter was already there.

He took off the fabric from the person's face and saw a middle-aged man with dark hair and a beard. His eyes were nearly closed and his lips dried from the heat. He was breathing.

"Sir, I'm here to help you. It's going to be okay," Peter told him as he supported his head and tried to dust the sand off his body. Prior Stephen arrived with one hand behind his back. Peter knew he was hiding a gun, a dark secret for a man in his position. Both of the monks looked at each other with equal disapproval in their eyes.  
"We have to hurry! The storm is almost here!" Peter shouted as the wind began blowing even stronger. "Help me get him up."  
"Pray to God we're not making a mistake," Prior said plainly and began digging up the stranger’s body with his bare hands. Both of them supported the man and carried him to the top of a dune. Peter struggled under his weight, sweat dripping off his face and he could feel how his legs weakened with each step. At the same time, he was determined to save this man's life no matter the cost.

He had no particular reason to do so. Maybe simply because Prior Stephen refused to help him and it wasn't the first time Peter behaved this way out of spite. Or, he just wanted to prove to himself that a good deed is more important than saving one’s own skin.

At the top of a dune they continued straight towards their vehicle. It was a rusted but still fully functional car, made out of parts found in the desert. Suddenly, there was so much dust in the air that they could barely breathe. They put the man in the back seat, Peter stayed with him and Prior sat behind the steering wheel. Finally, the engine started and a wave of sand rose under their wheels.

"Cover your face, boy," said Stephen as he put a gas mask on. Peter did the same, he had one already prepared around his neck. His eyes were hidden behind the old scratched goggles. The inside of the car began to fill with tiny pieces of sand and dust. Small stones from the outside were hitting the top of the roof like a shower. The boy took a piece of cloth from his robe and was about to cover the unknown man's face as well when he noticed he was moving his lips. Slowly and with obvious difficulties he seemed to be trying to say something.

"What is it, sir?" Peter lowered his head, hoping he'd hear something. His lips parted again.  
"...er..."  
"I'm here, tell me."  
"…a...ter..."  
"Water? Of course! Of course!" Peter reached for a cold leather pouch attached to his belt and unplugged it. The car moved fast, Prior Stephen was encouraged by the storm behind them, and the boy in the back seat struggled to put a bottleneck to the strange man's lips without spilling it. Water was sometimes more valuable than a human life. The man's lips touched the tip of the bottle and let a few sips moisten his throat.

All of a sudden, Stephen drove over a few rocks and the car nearly jumped. Peter lost his balance and fell on the man's chest, spilling water all over his face. The man coughed, practically drowning.

"Sorry, child," the prior apologized quickly, with his eyes stuck on the road. Peter tried to get up from the man's body, worrying he'd hurt him, when he saw something glowing under his clothes. Without thinking, his fingers found their way under the man's black tank top and touched something made of glass and metal in the place where his heart should be. A strange round thing released soft turquoise light. It must have been very deep in his flesh and only the top part was peeking out. Was it something that was hurting him? A strange glowing bullet maybe? Or something like a tracking device? Peter wanted to help him. He tried to move with it, or take it out completely.

Suddenly, a hand with the quickness of an arrow grabbed his wrist. Peter gasped and looked up. The man was looking at him with his sharp bronze eyes, a dangerous wrinkle between his bold dark eyebrows told a clear message: 

_Don't touch it._

The boy's fingers let go of the metal thing and he slowly backed off with his hand. The unknown man released the grip and soon after that his head fell back and his eyes closed. Peter took a deep breath. His cheeks burned with adrenaline and a bit of fear and his hand was dirty from the man's sweat. He remembered then to cover his face, and he did so.

The Monastery was an enormous stronghold made out of pale stone and rusted iron with two tall towers. It's dark front gate was visible for miles, the only promise of safety. The guards already saw their car coming from a distance and opened it enough for them to drive through. After the gate closed, they were finally safe. The sandstorm still blustered outside, but this time it couldn't hurt them. Peter took off his face protection, and did the same with their waif. He was unconscious again. Prior opened the back door, called for help from one of the guards and began to help him.

“What happened? Who is this?“ Asked the guard. More people were showing up due to the commotion.  
“We found him in the dunes. He needs help. Bring the stretcher,“ said Stephen with an undoubtable authority. One of the men ran away to do as he ordered.  
“He looks like an outlaw. Are you sure about this?“ asked somebody. “Abbot won't be happy.“  
“I think I know what I'm doing, thank you for your concern.“ Prior looked at the man shortly and he stepped back with his head lowered in shame. Soon after, a stretcher arrived. People helped to get the hurt man from the car and carried him away. Peter watched the whole scene from a distance and his body shivered with excitement. No stranger had entered the Monastery since he was a child. He had to run to catch up with the crowd, so he wouldn't miss anything while he was trying to dust off the sand covering his whole body.

“Put him here,“ Prior said and the people carrying the stretcher did as he commanded. Peter entered the small cell that used to be empty and saw it stuffed with people. Everybody was staring, talking and whispering to each other. This part of the Monastery had never been this exciting before. Stephen raised his hands and said loudly: “Everybody has to leave now. This man needs a proper treatment and I need peace to do it.“  
“Who is he?“  
“I don't know. All that is important right now is that he's hurt and requires help. Please leave.“

The crowd listened and people slowly emptied the room, still talking and mumbling.  
“Not you.“ Stephen grabbed Peter's arm. “I need you here.“

After Peter brought a bucket of clean water from the Monastery well, he helped to undress the man and wash him. Cool water helped to lower his body temperature. When Stephen saw the glowing thing on his chest, his face froze.  
“I already saw it inside the car,“ Peter said quickly. “Do you know what it could be?“  
“No idea,“ Prior admitted. He seemed truly worried. “Maybe something to stimulate his heart? A pacemaker? Although it doesn't look like something this advanced would belong to a simple rover.“  
“What if it's something else? Like a tracking device?“  
“It could be, but in that case why would it be glowing? It makes no sense.“  
“Father Stephen, when we were in the car I tried to remove it and-“  
Stephen snapped, “You fool, why did you do that? You could've hurt him - if not kill him absolutely. And above that, what if it was an explosive or something even worse? You could have killed us all!“  
“Sorry father,“ Peter apologized, truly embarrassed. “Luckily, he stopped me.“  
“Him? Was he conscious? Did he say anything?“  
“No... he just... stared at me. But I know that he doesn't want it to be removed.“  
“Very well, let's keep it that way. When he gets better he'll have a lot to explain.“

In the end, except for a few bruises and scrapes, the only thing the man suffered from was hyperthermia. Stephen, as an experienced doctor, said that after the man's body cooled down and he’d hydrated, he would be fine in a few days. That information made Peter think about how long he'd been wandering in the desert and what led him there to begin with. The man must have been an outlaw, a sane person wouldn't even step into the desert on their own.

When they dressed him in clean clothes, they covered him with a thin blanket and packed his things into a sack. Prior Stephen picked out all the man's weapons, including small shivs, guns and bullets, and hid them between the folds of his own robe. Peter watched him in silence. He despised violence and all of it's tools.

They were about to leave, when somebody knocked on the door violently. Stephen opened it and was about to scold whoever did it, but one look at the person behind the door made him change his mind immediately.

“Father Nicholas,“ he said humbly, nodding his head. Peter couldn't help it and moved behind his guardian with a bucket of dirty water still in his hands. A tall black man in front of them, with an eyepatch and a grand dark robe, seemed very displeased.

“Explain to me what is going on.“ he said when the door closed behind them.  
“We found a man in the dunes and decided to help him.“ Stephen's answer was simple and almost unbiased. A few moments later, in the hallway as both of the monks followed their abbot to his office, Stephen leaned closer to Peter and quietly said: “It's going to be alright, just let me do the talking.“ Peter was shaking from head to toe and the only thing he could do was nod in agreement. He had no idea what to say anyway. He'd always been terrified of the abbot and being the target of his rage was equal to a nightmare.  
“That's it?“ asked abbot Nicholas when they were in his office. Unable to still himself, he walked furiously across the room.  
“It's really not that complicated.“  
“Stop mocking me, Brother Stephen! Do you realize what you did? Right now thanks to you the whole Monastery is under threat.“  
“Isn't that a bit exaggerated? He's just a dying man.“  
“A dying snake!” Nicholas spat. “There's nothing else wandering in those dunes. Cutthroats and barbarians who don't respect anything, not even other people's lives! What were you doing outside, anyway?“  
“Looking for pieces of scraps and engine parts, like we always do this day in the week. You allowed us to do that.“ Stephen was cool and calm, Peter wondered if he really felt that way.  
“For the love of god, I should have forbidden it a long time ago. Something this dangerous…“ the abbot sat down on his chair heavily, looking like a very old man. He pointed at the two empty chairs on the other side of his table and watched both monks follow his suggestion.

  
“Brother Stephen,“ Nicholas began calmly this time, “you know I respect you greatly, but you have to see what you're doing. We can't just let people from the outside world walk in here.“  
“I can see very well what I'm doing. Helping. Isn't this what the Lord wants us to do? Or should I remind you; _do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God_ . Why are you against that?“  
The abbott shook his head, “I'm not against helping. The exact opposite. This whole place is about helping. We live here with hundreds of people who want to live a peaceful life with Christ. It was made for this purpose. Others on the outside don't understand what we've created here. If they could they would come here and rob us of everything - including our lives. That's why we have these walls protecting us. They help people.“  
“I understand that completely. But I also believe one person won't make such a difference. We couldn't leave him buried in sand while he was still breathing.“  
“That's very admirable, but what are you going to do when he gets better and starts taking what's ours? What if he hurts somebody?“  
“Right now he's locked in a cell and it will stay that way for at least a couple of days. When he gets better, we'll decide what to do. Maybe he'll want to stay here. Maybe he's a good person. Either way I take full responsibility over this man's actions.“  
“Of course, he gains our trust and lets his friends in while we're sleeping.“  
“Just give him a chance. It's not the first time we've decided to let somebody in from the outside - that person brightens our lives every day.“ Peter caught the abbott’s eyes looking at him for a short moment and he blushed immediately.

Nicholas seemed like he was about to spit out another argument, but in the last second he turned to Peter with a deadly serious face.  
“What about you, child? What do you think? After all, you were there too.“  
“I-I think,“ Peter stuttered in surprise, boiling blood flooding his cheeks. The abbot had never asked for his opinion before. “I think that man is just lonely.“  
“Lonely?“ The abbot raised his eyebrows doubtfully.  
“It's just…“ Peter took a deep breath, “we found him in a desert, where he went knowing he's going to die. He must be an outcast, or somebody who got abandoned. He has nothing.“  
“So he's a criminal, even for those barbarians? That sounds calming.“ Abbot chuckled.  
“With all respect, Father,“ Peter heard his voice rising in anger, nearly forgetting who he was speaking to, “but didn't Jesus eat with thieves and prostitutes? Why should we think we're above a poor dying man? It's our duty to offer him a helpful hand. I'm not saying he's a saint but everybody deserves help, and if that man wants to accept it and change himself, we should be nothing but happy for him.“

Both of the respectable men were speechless. Peter's head was about to explode but he stared at Nicholas furiously. Prior Stephen broke the silence with a smirk on his face.  
“Well, I believe we have a lot to learn from our youth, don't you think, Father? Sometimes they see things much simpler than we want to admit.“

Abbot didn't reply. He kept silent for a few seconds, before he spoke.  
“I want somebody to watch over that sand-man 24/7. If anything happens, it's on you two.“  
“Agreed. Thank you, father.“

When they left the office, Peter felt like he was about to faint. He reached for a cold wall on to support himself. Prior came to him and put his arm around his shoulders.  
“You did great, child,“ he said proudly. “Abbot seemed very impressed, although I'm not sure if he liked what you told him.“  
“I think I'm going to throw up,“ Peter mumbled and Stephen laughed.  
“No wonder, you just scolded the most powerful man in the Monastery like a naughty schoolboy. Let's go get you some water.“  
“But Father Stephen,“ Peter stopped him in the middle of a step, “What if father Nicholas is right? We don't know that man. He could be very dangerous. Are we sure we're doing the right thing?“  
“We cannot be sure about anything,“ Prior shook his shoulders. “You decided to save him, even though you put yourself in danger, and that is a very noble thing to do. A foolish thing, but indeed very noble. And I admire you for it. I also believe there is a reason why he should live. That's why I've decided to help you with everything that happens. Now, you need to drink.“

Peter had to admit, even though Prior Stephen was sometimes very strict with him, their friendship was the sweetest thing in his life.


	2. Steel at my throat

Ever since the unknown sand-man had entered the Monastery, Peter's life had become much more interesting. Suddenly, he had something to be excited about. Everyday, Prior Stephen and him went into the sand-man's cell and took care of him. Peter changed the cooling pad on his head and helped him eat. The second day, the man was conscious but too weak to say anything. He only stared at Peter silently with long black eyelashes and allowed the boy to feed him with warm broth and prickly pear juice.

Prior Stephen said that the sand-man was most likely starving when they found him, so they should feed him with cautiousness. Sand-man accepted all of the food they offered to him and wanted more every day, which was a sign of a good recovery. Peter was very proud of him. He liked him.

There was also something very satisfying about taking care of someone. Making sure the person was well fed and clean. It was a lot of hard work, but at the end of the day, there was nothing more rewarding. Peter kept thinking about Sand-man during masses and while he was doing his chores. Wondering how he was feeling, where he came from and what he’d tell them when he got better. The only thing that bothered him was that the sand-man hadn’t spoken yet. It had been three days, and there wasn't a single sound coming out of his mouth. Prior Stephen said: he has a perfectly healthy tongue and his vocal cords seem fine too.

“He could be a halfwit, you know,“ said Stephen to Peter, after he shared his worries with him. “Or he's mute. Some people survive a trauma and never speak again. That happens.“

That only made Peter sadder. He wanted the man to be healthy and well. Every time their eyes met, he endowed him with an honest smile, trying to tell him he was his friend. Maybe he spoke a language they didn’t know. Most clans around them spoke their own slang, people from the Monastery used old English, which was mostly forgotten in the outside world. Despite these thoughts, Peter had a feeling the sand-man understood them very well. Every time Prior Stephen was explaining something to him about his condition, he seemed to know exactly what he was saying even though he never nodded or expressed understanding in any way. His looks were sharp and powerful. He was not stupid. 

_I should give him time,_ Peter thought, as he carried a tray with food for the sand-man across the Monastery square on day four. The ground was burning from the heat and Peter could feel it through the bottom of his sandals. Hot days like these tempted everybody to do nothing all day. There were small groups of people hiding in the shadows and playing board games or just relaxing.

“Hello,“ Peter greeted them politely with a smile. They watched him with strange looks on their faces.

“Hey kid, can you come here for a moment?“ asked one of them. Peter stopped and had to hold back a loud sigh that was about to slip out his lips. Everyone always called him kid or child, even though he was almost sixteen years old and a novice. And not just other monks, common people too. The proper name they should use was brother or Brother Peter, but nobody actually cared.

He had come to the Monastery as a small orphan and nobody knew his name, so most people just called him the first thing that came to mind. It was Prior Stephen who decided to name him Peter and make a novice out of him. That's why Peter wanted the waif to tell everyone his name as soon as possible. He didn't want him to be _sand-man_ forever.

“What is it?“ Peter asked, as he came closer to them. It was a group of boys, not much older than him. They were lying on the ground, hiding from the sun and probably resting after their shift in a greenhouse.

“You're the one who saved that guy in the sand, right?“

“Yes, that's me,“ Peter nodded.

“What is he like?“

“Well, he doesn't really do much. So far he's mostly sleeping,“ Peter explained. People were asking about sand-man all the time and he was tired to death from it.

“Why is he here anyway? People say he's a desert bandit and he could be the end of us.“

Of course. The same old ignorance. Peter was sick of it.

“First of all - that is not true, we still don't know who he really is and second - we just wanted to help him. He'll leave when he gets better.“ He was annoyed from listening to their questions. He wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“How can you be so sure?“ The man on the ground raised his eyebrows ironically.

“I just know it.“

“Sure you do, since you're probably one of his kind…“

Peter's heart began to beat like crazy. He swallowed loudly and his face turned bright red. Some of them were smiling boldly, others stared at him with honest disgust in their eyes.

“I-I have to go.“ Peter lowered his head and left rapidly, trying to hide tears deluging his eyes. He stopped in the safety of an empty hall where he put the tray on the ground and tried to calm himself down.

Every time people mentioned his origin, it felt like a deep stab in the chest. Peter knew that he came from the outside world, from a violent tribe, and no matter how hard he tried to make people see him as an individual person and not his ancestry, somebody always reminded him.

He caught his reflection in a bowl of water and looked at three small dots tattooed under his right eye. The symbol of the clan he was born to. A mark he would never get rid of. Whenever people look at him, they see the dots, not him. Sometimes he felt like Prior Stephen was the only one who could see past them. He remembered the sand-man lying in his cell. If he stayed, no matter where he was from, he’d always be reminded of his past, just like Peter. That was the last thing Peter wanted for him, and maybe that's why he liked him so much. They were the same, in a strange sense.

He wiped out the tears running down his face and blew his nose into a plain handkerchief. Then he grabbed the tray and went quickly into the sand-man's cell, where Prior Stephen waited for him.

“Where were you?“ He asked him as Peter entered the room. “Our quest is starving.“

Stephen had his robe off and wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. Sand-man was sitting on his bed, looking at Peter with his usual unreadable face. This was the first time the boy saw him not lying down. He was also shaved. Prior still held the razor in his hands.

“Sorry Father, I got stuck in a kitchen,“ Peter went past the Prior quickly, hoping his red eyes wouldn’t give him away. He didn't want him to ask questions in his careful and fatherly way. Suddenly, Peter was glad the sand-man couldn't talk. When the man looked at him, he could see something was wrong with the boy, who smiled like always but this time with an undeniable bitterness. The monk and the boy walked pass each other, leaving the razor on the table, next to the case.

“I have a surprise for you, sir. Since you've been such a good patient, you're going to get...“ Peter spoke dramatically as he raised the lid of a pot, with the gesture of a professional chef, “chicken for lunch!“

“There's no way he deserves that,“ Prior spoke up from the other side of a room with a smile. He was washing his hands from shaving foam in a bucket.

“Don't listen to him, sir,“ Peter made an annoyed face. “He's just envious.“

Peter turned his back at the sand-man to put the tray on the empty table, next to Prior's tools. Then somebody grabbed him from behind violently. He saw a tanned hand capturing the razor from the table and pressing it tightly to his neck. Peter didn't even have time to gasp, those hands were nearly crushing him with an iron grip and a cold blade cut his skin. He was forced to turn and now he was facing Stephen, creating a living shield. Prior already had a gun in his hand, pointing behind his ear, where Peter could feel sand-man's hot breath. Nobody moved for a moment, the only sound in the room was Peter's panting and drops of water falling on the tiled floor from Stephen's wet hands.

“Let the boy go,“ Prior said with a cold voice.

“Enough with this game!“ The sand-man shouted. “How much are they gonna pay you for trading me alive? Or do you want to keep me for yourselves? I'd rather die!“

“Let him go,“ Stephen's voice hardened and a quiet clicking sound hinted that he unlocked the gun. “I'm not going to repeat myself.“

“F-father!“ Peter cried. His body was paralyzed by fear and cold sweat glistened on his face. He shook in sand-man's arms, trying to free himself. but the man’s grip was as tight as a rope of steel.

“Don't worry, kid,“ the sand-man breathed into his ear. “When your dad shoots he'll hit both of us. Look how his hands are shaking.“

“I know what I'm doing.“

“You do? Well you should do it fast, because otherwise I'm about to slit this spider-lings's throat! You're not getting me alive, are we clear?!“

“Father, please!“ Peter yelled with tears rushing down his face. A warm garnet stream ran down his neck. “I don't want to die!“

Stephen's stare melted with fear, but he didn't move at all. Time was running out. Sand-man's breath shortened with every second. Under this level of pressure, he could be capable of anything.

All of a sudden, Stephen dropped his weapon and put his hands in the air.

“We're not your enemies. We found you in the desert and decided to help you, that's all we know about you. We don't want to sell you nor imprison you. If you want to leave, I won't be in your way. Please, just don't hurt anybody.“ 

Peter was so shocked he forgot to breathe for a second. Stephen stepped aside. After a moment of silence, the sand-man tossed Peter in Prior's direction and ran out of the door. Peter fell on a hard floor, sobbing loudly. Stephen pulled him into his arms right away and hugged him soothingly. His body shivered just like Peter's.

“It's over, child,“ he said softly. “You're safe now. Let me see that cut.“ Stephen wiped Peter's neck clean and studied the wound with his silver eyes. “It's not very deep, more like a scratch. You'll be fine.“

They heard sand-man's fast footsteps reach the end of the hall and a moment later the sound of something heavy hitting the ground reached their ears. Sand-man moaned exhaustedly and then he got swallowed by silence.

“I knew this would happen,“ Prior sighed, “he's not strong enough.“

After they calmed down, Stephen got up and to Peter's surprise and disgust he dragged the sand-man from the hall and put him back in his bed. Then he closed the door and hid his tools. Peter saw that the lunch he brought was still where he left it. Without any shame he grabbed the chicken, ripped a decent piece off and stuffed it in his mouth while watching his abductor lying in front of him. It was delicious. Meat was a Sunday meal. Maybe it tasted even better spiced with revenge.

“Don't do that,“ he heard Prior's voice. “That’s the only food he has for today.“

“I don't care. He wanted to kill me. He can starve to death now.“

“He was scared and believed we wanted to hurt him. How would you react, if you were him?“

Peter didn't respond immediately. Probably because he was trying to swallow a big bite.

“He also said I'm a spider-ling . What does that even mean?“

“You don't know? Aren't you one of them?“ It was the sand-man. He was lying with his eyes partly open, watching Peter eating his lunch. The boy turned away from him, pretending there was suddenly something strangely fascinating on a blank wall.

“We're not the Spiders, if that's what you mean.“ Stephen responded. “Peter joined us as a little boy.“

“So which clan are you?“

“We're the Church of the Last Loyals, not a clan. We're pacifists.“

“Never heard of it. Sounds made up to me.“

“Then you must be from a far away place.“

Sand-man bit his lip like he just said something he shouldn't. Stephen smiled.

“Are you going to tell us your name at least?“ he asked.

Sand-man seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, but then he seemed to decide it was worth sharing and finally spoke:

“Tony.“

“Very well, Mr Tony-“

“No. Just Tony, nothing more.“

“Alright, Tony,“ Stephen nodded, “I'm Prior Stephen and this is Brother Peter. Nice to meet you.“

“Great.“

Peter wasn't certain if he liked sand-man, or Tony, anymore. After what he did, he didn't even want to bring him food. But Stephen insisted.

“He still isn't perfectly well, and we're responsible for him, remember?“ he told him, when Peter complained.

“But Father, what if he does it again?“

“He won't, I promise.“ Stephen stroked his hair kindly. The boy never talked back at him, but this time he was very tempted. Every time he remembered how Tony pressed the razor to his neck, his insides swirled with fear. He was never this close to death. He just couldn't trust him anymore, or at least not right away. He held back every time they visited him, not looking at him nor speaking.

For some reason, Prior Stephen and Tony became friends. Peter wondered how come Stephen forgave Tony so easily. He even trusted him enough to not lock his door anymore, and they spent a lot of time talking. Peter hated their conversations, always about such boring topics like politics or technology. He wanted to go away every time they began their talks, but at the same time he knew being with Prior meant release from his chores, so he sat down and suffered.

The third day after Tony's attack, one man from the Monastery was pulled into a table saw by accident and Prior had to operate on him. Peter met him for a short second in a hall, he was running with other medics to the place where the disaster happened. When their eyes met, Stephen turned to him in a rush and said: “Take care of Tony for me, as usual.“

Peter did as Prior said. He took a tray with food and brought it to Tony's room with a beating heart. They had never been alone before and Peter was scared he'd attack him again. Tony was sitting by a table, writing his strange numbers. This hobby began soon after his attack on Peter. And Stephen was supporting him enthusiastically. He even gave him some of his precious pencils. The boy couldn't deny that taste of jealousy in his mouth watching the two of them getting along so well.

“Lunch? Finally!“ Tony exclaimed as Peter entered the door. He leaned back, balancing on the back legs of his chair. He was getting way too well for Peter's opinion. The boy didn't say anything and simply put the tray in front of him.

“So what are we having today?“ Tony smiled and lifted the lid of a pot. Hot rising steam brushed against his face. Peter took a step back and sat down on his bed.

“Where's Stephen?“ Tony asked, turning at Peter and licking his greasy fingers. The novice kept silent. He despised that confident smirk on Tony's face. Almost like he was telling him: _Look at you, my little private servant. Are you still mad about what I did the other day?_

“What is it? The cat's got your tongue? Be my guest, kid. Keep your secrets. I've never thought of you spider-lings as smart in the first place.“

“I'm not a spider-ling !“ Peter badgered, face wrinkled with anger, leaving his fear of Tony behind. “Stop calling people what they're not! And for your information, you should use Father, or Prior, not just _Stephen_ , when you're addressing him. And I'm Brother Peter, to you.“

“I knew you'd talk!“ Tony clapped his hands. “ You know, I haven't really got this brother-father thing. Are you guys related? Is everyone in this place? Oh god, don't tell me that we are-“

“It's a title. It means he's our spiritual father and I'm your spiritual brother. We're all God's children.“

“Okay, that sounds weird. I don't want to be part of this creepy family. The Church of the Last Loyals....“ Tony blew raspberries contemptuously and put a boiled broccoli in his mouth. “ Loyal to who anyway?“

“To our one true Lord. We're the last ones keeping the ancient traditions and living by the Ten Commandments. Nobody else on the continent is openly confessing to this religion anymore.“

“But surely there are many other Gods, so how can you be so certain your's is the right one? Take Gunporr, for example, the God of war. Clans are winning battles in his name. What are your people achieving through yours?“

“A peaceful life. We believe you can't gain anything from killing, it's the opposite of what your God promises to you.“

“Who said I believe in Gunporr?“

“What do you believe in, then?“

“Myself. There's nothing more real than the individual. I don't need to do good or win battles in the name of any God, I can do it for myself. I don't follow any clans or Gods.“

Tony studied Peter's face, waiting for his reaction. The boy had to admit, he was impressed. At first he thought Tony was a pagan, just like the rest of the world, but he was obviously more than met the eye. Somewhere deep down inside him, a lust for getting to know Tony better woke up again after those three hateful days.

“Maybe you should talk about this with Father Stephen. I'm just a simple novice.“

“I completely agree. Where is he anyway? You didn’t answer me when I asked you the first time.“

“He's saving somebody's life right now. There was an accident. He can't come.“ Peter explained. “So I guess you two won't be discussing your favourite topics today.“

“You don't like me.“

“I wonder why.“ Peter grinned ironically.

“Are you seriously still not over that?“ The man slapped his forehead with a palm of his hand. “I mean, hello? It's been three days. Do you want an apology? Okay, I apologize. It was stupid of me. And dangerous. But in my defense, I've been through some shit, and if I trusted you guys for no reason, that would be idiotic. Although, to be honest, I don't think I would be capable of hurting you in the first place. I only knew Stephen would do whatever I wanted, if I used you to threaten him.”

“Okay, I accept it, you're forgiven,“ Peter raised his hands in renounce, just to cut off Tony's monologue and suddenly he felt a bit lighter. He noticed that Tony was smiling and he could not resist smiling back at him.

“You're a good kid, you know that?“ Tony said.

“Brother.“

“Whatever.“

After Tony finished his lunch, he looked out the window from his chair. He seemed way too quiet for his own good. Peter guessed he was planning his next move. And he was right. After a second, Tony stood up and went towards the cell door.

“Wait! Where are you going?“ Peter yelled, running after him.

“Outside. Probably some place with mechanical tools. My bad boy over here needs a bit of a cleaning and I can't wait any longer.“ Tony said, patting on the glowing spot on his chest. “ You guys must have some kind of workshop here, since you have cars.“

“But-“

“Stephen said I'm free to leave anytime I want. So I'm off. And you're going with me, because this place is a hell of a maze.“ Tony pushed Peter in front of him. “After you, _Brother_ .“


	3. Talks and twists

Leading Tony somewhere was way worse than keeping him in one place. Peter had to admit, he missed the times they’d kept him locked in a cell. Even though Peter knew the way and wanted to go quickly and straight to their destination, Tony kept stopping at random places, peeking into open doors, pointing at things with his finger and making inappropriate comments. He was garnering way too much attention as the infamous sand-man, and his behaviour only made it worse. Peter could only imagine how people were going to make fun of him. Tony was obviously very aware of his actions. He put his arm around the boy's shoulders when they passed a group of young men who had made fun of Peter earlier.

"What are you looking at? Never seen anyone this good looking before?“ he shouted at them and Peter's cheeks burned with shame. "What kind of people live here?“

"People from our church.“ Peter explained quickly, trying to get out of Tony's hug.

"But they’re not brothers,“ Tony pointed back at the group.

"Technically they are. They're just not monks. The Monastery is a community for all people who want to live in peace.“

"Hmm...“ Tony raised his eyebrows curiously. "How was this place built anyway?“

"From what I've heard, they build it on an old industrial water treatment plant. There used to be a river nearby. But that was long before the war. They used materials that were left here and the newer buildings are made out of sandstone from the desert, as you can see...“ Peter quieted as they arrived in an empty square veiled under a deep blue shadow. Tony looked around, most of the houses built out of camel toned bricks. His eyes rose following the height of buildings. On the roofs, he saw pointed glass with a spark of green.

"Where do you guys get water from?“

"The underground. But we're trying to reuse it as much as possible. That's why we have the wastewater treatment.“

"That's pretty cool for a bunch of religious freaks," Tony admitted.

"As long as you can't smell it.“ Peter smiled.

Inside the workshop, the air was heated from a flaming hot blacksmith's furnace. The strong scent of gasoline and ashes filled the air. Peter had to introduce Tony to a foreman engineer. All the workers looked at Tony with distrust, but the foreman, who was very fond of Prior and his opinions, shook Tony's hand respectfully and showed him everything he needed.

Amazed, Peter stared at Tony when he took off the shirt he borrowed from them and pulled the glowing thing out of his chest. There was still a thin wire connecting him to it, he grabbed a screwdriver and began to dismantle it delicately.

"I'm sorry, could you hold this?“ He turned to Peter and submitted a small part. Peter held it like a relic. He'd never seen a piece of metal so flawlessly smooth and shiny. Tony didn't have time to watch the boy's stunned face, he simply brushed his hair out of his sweaty forehead and continued working.

"What is this thing?“ Peter asked.

"It protects me from bad particles in my body. That's the simplest way to explain it.“

"What happened?“

"I got too close to an explosive. If I were on my own, I would’ve died, but somebody very smart created this and saved me.“ Tony talked while brushing tiny seeds of sands out of the crannies of his blue heart. Peter was a bit let down by his answer. He wanted to know every detail, but Tony seemed to be finished with his story. After a few minutes of silence, Tony looked at Peter, still sitting next to him, with his thin arm supporting his head. "What about you? What's your story?“

Peter wasn't expecting that question. "I... ugh... I only know what Father Stephen told me.“

"Go on.“

"Well I was born to a clan, as you guessed.“

"The Spiders?“

"Yeah... before they moved north they used to attack the Monastery all the time. One day, soon after they left, I was found in front of the gate crying and tottering. I could barely speak even though I was almost six years old. They must have abandoned me for being too weak - it’s a common practice in their culture. After that, Prior Stephen decided to name me Peter and made me a novice. And that's about it.“

"What about your parents? Do you remember them?“

"Not really. I remember a woman who took care of me. She always danced with me, even though I'm an awful dancer. But that's all. The Monastery is my family now.“

"I see,“ Tony nodded pensively. He reached for the part in Peter's hands. Peter felt strangely relieved. He never talked about his past, because he always repudiated it. But for some reason it felt natural talking about it with Tony. Maybe because he understood like no one else in the Monastery.

The heat was unbearable. Sweat was dripping from both of them. The boy took off his upper robe and exposed a grey tank top under it.

"It's weird to see you without that thing on,“ Tony noted. "You almost look normal.“

Peter laughed. He realized he felt quite comfortable with Tony. Tony didn't judge him or lecture him. Suddenly he understood why Prior Stephen became so fond of the man. Tony never cared about what other people thought of him, he enjoyed teasing them, making them react. He seemed like the kind of guy who always knew how to have fun even if the situation was not the best one for cheesy one-liners. It was annoying and charming at the same time.

When Tony finished taking care of his blue heart and it was placed back in his chest, they decided to go for a walk around the Monastery. This time Peter had to laugh at Tony's silly jabs. What was going on with him anyway? Suddenly he felt like he was drunk. Everything was so nice. Peter wanted Tony to give him all of his attention, even though he was too shy to admit it. Everytime Tony looked at him with a smile, Peter smiled back even brighter and after a while all the muscles around his mouth burned from the constant stretching.

The novice showed him the chapel and after that the greenhouse, which was a large parcel of space under a roof of glass where they grew most of their food. The air inside was heavy and humid, containing tiny drops of water that tickled their skin. Peter picked a fresh dewy tomato from a vine while the workers weren't looking and hid it in his pocket. Then they went into the Monastery gardens and sat down between green plants. The weather was as usual hot and dry and the tomato offered a refreshing snack. Peter tore the fruit in two parts and shared one with Tony. The man ate slowly, red juice dripping down to his elbows while he looked around at the cactuses and crooked trees.

"This place, it almost looks like…“ Tony mumbled softly, but didn't finnish the sentence. The boy noticed earlier how Tony's wide smile got thinner and thinner as they walked around the Monastery, until it disappeared completely, almost as if something worried him. He wanted to ask about it, but he wasn't sure how Tony would react. So they sat next to each other in silence, Tony chewing his half of a tomato and Peter staring at him devotedly, barely touching the one in his hands. At the end, it was Tony who spoke first.

"Listen, kid, when we get back, can you tell Stephen I have to talk to him?“

"Sure, no problem,“ Peter nodded. “Is everything okay?“

"I just...“ Tony rubbed his eyes for a second before he continued. "I have the feeling I should move on, you know. Pack my stuff and hit the road.“

"But you just came here. You don't like this place?“

"It's not about that. I... I don't think I could explain it to you. It's too complicated. I just have to go.“

Peter didn't say anything. The only thing he felt at that moment was disappointment paralyzing his whole body. He wasn't sure if he was going to scream or cry or both. What was happening to him? He knew from the start that Tony was going to leave eventually. Why did it all of a sudden hurt so much? Peter had never felt pain like this before. As if a stone-cold blade pierced his heart. Tony looked at him, the sun in his eyes, and Peter noticed that his irises turned gold in the light. It only made everything worse.

"Are you okay, kid?“

"I'm fine,“ Peter forced a smile to his face and got up on his feet. "We should return. If Father Stephen is finished with the operation, he'll be looking for us.“

When they entered the Monastery hall, they saw Stephen walking in their direction. He seemed exhausted and he still wore a long white coat, the one that only medics wore during their shift.

"Father!“ Peter addressed him from a distance. "You're back! Tony needs to speak with you.“

"Where have you been?“ Prior asked when they met. Peter noticed then how pale his face was.

"Just outside for a walk, nothing serious. How did the operation go?“ Tony asked. Stephen looked down at his feet and then he shook his head. Peter crossed himself.

"Unfortunately, the saw nearly cut him in two. He had very little chance. We did everything we could.“

"Of course you did.“ Tony said soothingly and patted his shoulder.

"So what do you want to talk about?“ Prior changed the subject quickly.

"Maybe we should discuss it in my room.“

"Let's go, then.“

When they stood in the middle of the cell, Tony said: "I have to leave.“ He rubbed his left hand nervously. "Thanks to your care I've recovered and now it's time for me to get going. I have nothing to give you in return, only my gratitude.“

"I see. When do you want to leave?“ Prior asked. Peter felt that he was equally sad from these news.

"Tomorrow morning, at dawn, would be perfect.“

"I'll arrange it. Is there anything else?“

"Well...there's something.“ Tony looked at Peter then back at Stephen. "Actually, right now a cup of water would be nice...“

"Peter,“ Stephen turned rapidly to the boy who stood right behind him.

"But-“

"Just a few drops, for me, please,“ Tony smiled sweetly at the novice, who pressed his lips tightly with irritation. He knew they were trying to get rid of him and he hated that they didn't want to include him in their conversation. He opened his mouth to protest, but Stephen pierced him with one of his strictest looks.

"I'll be right back,“ Peter threatened them and left the room. On his way to the well, he kept kicking small stones lying on the ground, watching them draw a perfect curve in the air and then fall to the ground with a soft click. Why was everybody treating him like a child all the time? Were Prior or Tony scared he'd tell someone? He wasn’t stupid, and the last thing he would ever want was to put them in trouble. Peter wished he could describe how sad and pushed away he felt.

The well was in a large square in the heart of the Monastery. It was a simple tall brick building shaped like a cylinder, with lots of bronze taps peeking out of it. Under them was a deep manger for catching the excess water. This place was usually crowded, especially in the morning, but right now it was empty except for one woman sitting on a bench. She was covering most of her head with a piece of fabric, but since this wasn't anything unusual in the heat, Peter didn't pay her any attention.

He took one of the cups made out of clay that was lying around and filled it with water. As he turned around, he caught the woman looking at him.

"Hello,“ he greeted her. She was silent, scanning him with her big blue eyes. As Peter passed, he noticed a braid of red hair glancing out of her cape. After walking a few steps, the boy stopped. He realized he'd never seen her here before. That was strange. Even though he couldn't know everybody in the Monastery personally, he knew every face. The novice turned around, but she was already gone.

The sun was going down and the Monastery drowned in it's carmine light. When Peter arrived at the beginning of the hallway that led to Tony's cell, he took off his sandals, determined to know what those two men were discussing that was so serious he wasn't allowed to listen. He walked silently, on the tips of his toes like a cat, and since the hall was already noiseless, he could hear the men talking from a distance through the closed door.

"…so that's why you were in that desert in the first place.“ Said Prior's voice. "But how can you be sure they haven't lost track of you?“

"I'm one hundred percent sure they haven't. They're the best. If somebody told me they can smell me from miles away, I would have believed them. The thing is, I can't allow you to become part of this. You live in a decent place that you've created by yourselves. It reminds me of my own work ... that unfortunately turned to dust. I don't want you to go through the same because of me. That's why I have to move on.“

"I understand. But to be honest, it's such a pity you have to leave. We could use somebody like you.“

"Everybody always says that, and usually not in a good way,“ Tony chuckled.

"Well if there's anything I can help you with, just tell me now.“

"Maybe a vehicle would be nice. And some supplies. I have no idea how long it will take me to get to Sugarland.“

"I'll take care of it.“

"And weapons. Could you spare any?“

"We'll look around, and see what we can find.“

"Thanks, I appreciate it. What about that boy, will he be alright?“

"Peter? I believe so, why?“ Stephen asked with surprise. Peter could feel his heart jump inside his chest. Tony was asking about him! He leaned closer to the heavy door.

"It's nothing,“ Tony mumbled, "He just seems like a nice kid. But I wondered, why did you insist on making a monk out of him? He could live here with any other regular family.“

"We thought so too, when he showed up at the Monastery,“ Prior sighed. "Unfortunately, the Spiders have left a big scar in people's hearts. And that tattoo under his eye doesn't help at all. One family eventually did accept him, but others … not so much. I couldn't keep watching him getting bullied by others, especially children that were fed by their parents' spite. It seemed like he’d always be an outlaw. Always the target of hate. That's why I decided to make him a novice. When the boy became one of us, he suddenly had a place in a community. A place that everyone here respects. Not only could I watch over him, but it felt a bit like raising a son. I’d always regretted not having one. That's why.“

"I see,“ Tony said after a while with a soft voice. Peter felt a warmth shrouding his heart.

A loud gong rumbled through the walls of the Monastery then. Peter's body shook and he dropped the cup. It broke to pieces in front of him and water spilled on his bare feet. The door opened and Stephen ran out of the cell.

"Peter!“ he gasped when he saw the boy standing with tears in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, Father-“

The gong in the distance rang again. Tony ran out too. He looked scared to death.

"What is it? What's happening?“ Stephen turned to him. Tony's face was whiter than fresh milk.

"The Iron Clan. They're here for me,“ he almost whispered. "We need to get out of here.“

"Our walls will stop them. This isn't the first time we find ourselves under attack. Do you hear me? Tony?!“ Prior shook Tony's shoulders aggressively. It looked as if Tony's soul had left his body for a moment.

A sudden explosion shook the ground. All three men lost their balance and a wave of dust fell from the ceiling. Peter screamed, covering his head.

"Nothing will stop them,“ Tony said, getting back to his feet. "Not even walls. They have the best explosives on earth. They'll slaughter everyone. You should run for your life, idiots!“

"Father, what are we going to do?“ Peter looked at Stephen, who grabbed his wrist cautiously. They heard shooting from outside, along with yelling and screaming.

"It's going to be okay, the Monastery is too big for them to plunder in one night. We can hide.“

"Then lead the fucking way!“ Tony shouted and they all started running. When they passed windows, Peter could see an ominous orange aura in a place where the gate was.

His body was struck with fear. He had no weapons, no armour, nothing to protect himself with, just his robe. He didn't even know how to fight. He had tried shooting from a gun twice in his life, and maybe he got into a fist-fight when he was younger but that seemed useless against wild members of the Iron Clan with their guns and machetes. He felt Prior's warm fingers around his wrist and he kept looking at the back of his head. Were they going to die tonight? After what Prior just said about him? What if they got hurt? Just the image of it made Peter realize he didn’t really care about himself or Tony anymore. The only thing that mattered was keeping Father Stephen safe.

They ran to the end of the hall and then turned left, where they stopped.

"Fuck.“ Tony cursed quietly, trying to catch his breath. There was a woman standing in the middle of the hall. It was the one Peter saw by the well earlier. The cape around her head was gone and her red hair looked like it was on fire. She held a gun pointed to the three men in front of her.

"We've been through this before, Tony,“ she said with a youthful, husky voice. "You know the drill: you give yourself to us, and nobody gets hurt.“

"Right, because last time that worked out perfectly, didn’t it?“ Tony grinned bitterly.

"There's not much time left to make a decision,“ she unlocked her weapon. Peter felt Prior's hand release him. "It's either you or everyone else.“

"If she strikes you, you'll be paralyzed for hours,“ Tony whispered. "Be very careful.“

"So what will it be, Tony?“ she shouted. "The usual? I hope you remember well what we did to those kids last time-“

A bullet missed her head by an inch. Prior was holding his pistol and his hands were shaking slightly. The woman flipped to the side like a scorpion and hid behind a column. All three men used the moment of distraction and ran into the closest doors. Prior pulled the latch and locked it. They were in a small corridor with tiny square windows.

"Who was that?“ Stephen turned to Tony, who seemed very disturbed. Another explosion struck close to them, only this time it was much stronger. Peter fell into Prior, who tried to catch him in his arms. The walls were nearly shattering.

"We have to go!“ Tony yelled, covering his head.

"This way!“ Stephen strapped his hand around Peter's arm again and led them. They entered another door that Prior had to unlock with one of his private keys. Peter had never been in this room before. It was another cell-like room, except this one was stuffed with weapons. 

Even Tony seemed shocked when they entered. Rifles, shotguns, 44s, chests filled with bullets and even grenades. Prior didn't hesitate and began handing out guns. Tony ended up with a semi-automatic rifle. Peter was surprised when even he was handed a firearm. It was awfully heavy. The boy looked at Prior with fear and the man only pressed his lips into a thin line, understanding his concerns.

"You know how to use it, right?“ he asked and Peter nodded. "There's a chance you won't be needing it, but we have to be prepared. Tony, this is yours.“

Tony turned and caught a sack with his old clothes. He shook his head with gratitude.

They ran again. Prior started to lock the door, but Tony stopped him, saying there was no point. Prior led them through halls and stairs. They were meeting people on the way, all of them running around, frightened to death. Prior shouted some advice in their direction and kept going. Luckily, the red-headed woman was nowhere to be seen. But if the screams and shooting outside was anything to go by, the clan had gotten inside their walls. Stephen was heading to the industrial part of the Monastery.

"It's an enormous place, and we can hide there easily,“ he explained, panting. "We'll be safe there-“

Another explosion, this one too close to them. It hit like a whip. Suddenly, Peter was on the floor, hearing nothing but loud ringing in his ears. A wall of red fire rose in front of the windows. The world moved in front of his eyes. He tried to get up on his feet, but his limbs didn’t listen to him so he stumbled and hit the wall. He saw Prior lying on the ground, facing down and Tony trying to get up, helplessly pinned between sharp stones and fragments of bricks. The boy tried walking towards them, but fell again. It was like being stuck in a nightmare. He wanted to run, but his body was disobeying him.

"Stephen, are you alright?“ Tony shuffled to Prior on his knees. He touched his shoulders, to turn him around, but then he stopped. He didn't move for a second, and then he looked at Peter.

"Stay where you are, kid,“ he raised his hands.

"What happened? F-father?“ Peter called, crawling closer to them. He felt cold rough stone under his stomach. Tony looked around. More screams and shots. Everything seemed to be on fire.

"Father?“ Peter called again. He got close enough to see a pointy object peeking out of Prior’s back. He lost his breath. He reached for him desperately and wanted to touch him, to shake him and wake him up, but Tony got on his feet and pushed Peter away.

"We have to go. There's nothing you can do.“

"No, Father! God no!“

Tony was unyielding. He grabbed a piece of fabric behind Peter's neck, forcing him to get on his feet and run. Peter kept turning around and crying out Prior's name. He couldn't see anything through the tears in his eyes and the world turned into a big messy stain. Tony was leading him somewhere, but he couldn't tell where. But there weren't many places in the Monastery Tony knew the way to. They kept running, several times they walked past people lying on the ground, just like Prior Stephen. They passed a group of painted strangers looting a chapel, not minding them at all.

After a few more steps, Peter smelled gasoline in the air and they stopped in a dark place. The workshop. Tony kept leading him further, protecting Peter’s head in his armpit and holding a gun in his free hand. All of a sudden, the boy heard car doors opening and Tony pushed him in the back seat.

"God help us if we get out of here alive.“ Tony said, starting the vehicle with keys that were still in the ignition. The engine shouted to life, Tony kept the lights off and they drove out of the garage, through the burning Monastery gate until the night swallowed them. It was so dark and bitter, just like his wounded heart.


	4. Ashes

The road was disappearing under the wheels of their car, leaving only clouds of dust behind them. They’d been driving all night without stopping. The heat surrounded them, the sun struck the roof of their vehicle mercilessly and opening the windows didn't help at all. Peter lied on the back seats, covered in sweat, too exhausted to even move. His heart shrank every time he returned to last night's events in his mind. Everything seemed so blurry, almost like he had been drunk. He only remembered a few highlights. The attack, the red haired woman and then ... Peter felt like he was about to throw up.

The most painful realization came later. He had nothing. No Monastery, no Prior to hide behind, not even his possessions. He had a few articles of clothing, although not enough to protect himself against the sun, but that was all. Not even shoes, abandoned back in the hallway. 

As he lay down, Peter noticed the seats were snowed with sand. A few days ago, Tony had lain on those seats dying. Now it was him behind the steering wheel and Peter in the back. How quickly the tables had turned.

Tony was silent as well. He hid his eyes behind slightly chipped sunglasses, protecting himself from the world, and kept his gaze on the road. From the back, he kind of reminded Peter of Stephen. The elbow of his left hand leaned out the open window and he kept biting the nail on his thumb. When Peter moved to sit down, Tony stopped demolishing his nail and, terrified of upcoming conversation, he reached for the car radio and tried pressing any buttons.

"It's broken,“ Peter said with an unexpectedly croaky voice, he was definitely dehydrated. Tony didn't pay him any attention and haggled with the thing callously and when all else failed, he hit it barbarically. The radio rewarded that with a loud static noise. Peter watched him succeed with an emotionless face, wondering why the universe was on Tony’s side all the time. Then Tony kept turning the button hoping he'd catch something. After a few seconds, a soft female voice filled the car.

"...and we're offering safety, food and water, to whoever needs it. Follow the Pole star to the Iron Tower. Join us and we can all build a better world...“

"They didn't turn it off,“ Tony said quietly with surprise.

"What is it? Who is she?“ Peter leaned forward, forgetting about his sorrow for a second.

"Nothing. No one,“ Tony turned the thing off immediately. "Silence is golden.“

Peter returned into his dark worries. He wasn't in the mood for a fight anyway. He had to hold back the fountain of feelings that sprang up inside him whenever he looked at the back of Tony's head. Wrath, grief, guilt, asking himself  _ why _ all the time. Why did it happen? Why did God punish him like this? What did he do to deserve it? He wanted to cry, but all the tears got stuck somewhere deep inside and Peter felt like he was turning into a cold stone. Whatever, he thought, Tony could keep his secrets. It’s not like they were going to make it too far. They were in the desert now. Soon some random clan would imprison them and cook them for dinner.

"I'm thirsty,“ Peter whined after a while, unable to withstand the heat and keep up his vigil anymore..

"I don't have any water,“ Tony replied simply.

"I also need to take a shower, since I'm really sweaty. I always take a shower, once a day.“

"There are no showers here, as you can see.“

"If I were in the Monastery, I could take one.“ Peter took another cautious step in the conversation.

"Then you can return, if you want. On your own, of course. I'm pretty sure the Iron Clan is still plundering the whole place. Just turn around.“

Peter turned his head and saw an enormous dark cloud rising on the horizon. It looked like an obscure grey worm swirling in a blue sky. The Monastery was probably getting burned to the ground. Peter realized he hadn't turned around this whole time and the view broke his heart immediately. 

"It's your fault.“ he said grimly, looking into Tony’s sunglasses through the rear view mirror. "The whole thing happened because of you. We gave you sanctuary, we healed you and fed you… And you could have stopped it, you sick-“

"One more word and you walk.“ Tony warned him.

They kept driving for another twenty minutes. When Tony pressed on the brake sharply and the car stopped, Peter nearly fell through the front windshield. The man pulled the handbrake and the car shook as the engine turned off.

"Alright, kid. This is your stop,“ Tony said, he took the keys and got out of a car.

"W-what?“ Peter looked around. There was nothing here, except an old cracked building with a painted sign above it's doors saying: ASYLUM. It seemed to be a busy place, judging from a line of parked cars and smoke calmly rising from open windows. Otherwise, it looked like a hell of a dump. Tony opened Peter's door for him and waited for him to get out.

"Let's go.“

"What do you mean  _ my stop _ ?“

Tony put his arm around him, although it felt more like an iron grip to imprison him, and led him towards the Asylum.

"It's simple,“ Tony began explaining,“since you've guessed I'm not the safest person to be around right now, you're going to need a place to stay. And there isn't anything better than the Asylum. It's also the best pub to hang around when you need some underground goods. Chuk, the owner, is my friend. He's a terrible human being but he'll take care of you. You'll be helping him hunt mutant scorpions, he's great with firearms. Also, his dried scorpion meat is a real dish. You'll be fine here, as long as you act smarter than you are.“

"B-but I don't want to stay here. It looks dangerous!“ Peter stopped.

"Listen kid,“ Tony turned to him as he took off his broken sunglasses,“right now you don't really have any other option. I'm doing this because I liked Stephen, and I know you didn't deserve this. You've gone through some shit and I don't have the conscience to leave you just like that, so be grateful and accept it, OK?“

"Can't I just stay with you?“ Peter felt like he was about to hit a new low. It wasn't like he knew Tony enough to trust him completely, but at that moment he was the only person Peter knew in the whole universe and now he was going to leave him too? Suddenly his knees trembled like they did before a fever.

"Didn't you see what happened last night? There are people coming after me. With each step I take, some cutthroat follows. You're not safe with me and I don't want you to be in any more danger.“

"I don't care. Really. I won't be in your way. Please just don't leave me here, please!“

"Didn't you hear me the first time?“ Tony asked, slowly losing his patience. "You don't have any other option. This is the safest place you can be. So let's do this!“

"But, Father-“

For a second both of them stared at each other. Tony didn't move a muscle, Peter was petrified by the title that just slipped out of his lips. In that moment, a barrier inside him broke and he burst into tears.

"I-I'm sorry!“ he cried with big salty tears flowing down his pale face. He tried wiping them off, but there was so much of it, he couldn't stop rubbing his face. Everything hurt. He kept seeing Prior's corpse in front of him, he heard the people of the Monastery screaming, he could still taste the smoke in his mouth. Everything he ever had was destroyed. All gone, turned into ashes. Suddenly he was a tiny seed of sand in the desert of the world, meaning nothing, not belonging anywhere, doomed to die. And it crushed him like a fist of iron.

Tony still stood there, not moving or saying anything. Peter couldn't see his face anyway. He felt like he should turn away from him, but he was too exhausted to do it.

"Everything alright?“ a strange new voice behind them made Tony turn around. The person gasped. “I can't fucking believe this. You're alive!“

"Loki,“ Tony put his sunglasses back on. “Long time no see. How are you doing?“

"Who cares about me, it's you who everyone’s talking about! There's a fat bounty on your head in fifty cities. What the hell are you doing here?“ When Peter wiped his eyes clean, he saw a tall thin man in a worn green jacket and tight black jeans with more holes in it than a fishnet. On the top of his dark hair he wore an obsolete cowboy hat, making him look like an old school western rover. Bright green eyes dominated his pointy pale face. He had a large cloth bag across his back and a pistol on his hip.

"I'm on my way to Sugarland. I just stopped here to drop off this kid,“ Tony pointed at Peter.

"To Sugarland? Clever,“ Loki grinned and walked towards them. The smile looked strange on his face, kind of devious. "Can I join you guys? I have a bit of an issue with my ride. Hey there, I'm Loki.“ Loki was about to shake Peter's hand, but when he saw the tattoo under his eye, he hissed like a snake.

"Spider-ling! “ he spat on the dusty ground. "What on earth are you doing here with a spider kid, Tony? That's not very smart of you, they drag attention and lots of trouble. Did you steal him from someone? Or buy him? They make great comrades in battle, it's true.“ He reached for Peter's face, but the boy quickly slapped his hand away. Loki laughed, as if he expected nothing else. 

"No, God no,“ Tony waved his hands defensively. "It's a long story. I'm leaving him here, with Chuk, because I can't take him with me. That's all.“

"Chuk?“ Loki turned at him. "You don't know? He's dead. There was a bit of a skirmish a few months ago and… well, he got shot. His brother owns the whole thing now.“

"Really? Fuck…“ Tony took a deep breath and looked at Peter who suddenly saw a flicker of hope. “That's a complication. Chuk was already a lot, but his brother is a nightmare…“

"Yep, a real tragedy. That dried scorpion meat will never be the same,“ Loki sighed like a martyr. Tony scanned him with a suspicious look for a second, smelling mischief in the air. He was about to say something when the door of the Asylum opened with a loud creak. Loki looked back and his smile disappeared. A group of men walked out with wrath in their eyes.

"Guys, I think it's time for our departure…“ Loki mumbled.

"Here he is!“ one of the men shouted and pointed their direction. "Loki, you goddamn thief! This time you won't get away with it!“

"Let's go!“ Tony said, he grabbed Peter's shoulder and ran towards their car. Bullets hit the ground and missed them by inches. Tony pushed Peter into the back seat and shut the door sharply, then he crawled into his seat, covering behind the door Loki opened for him. The engine roared and they drove away with bullets hitting their car. Peter was pinned to the back seats, curled into a defensive ball. The men stopped shooting and ran towards their cars, determined to follow them. Unfortunately, that's where they got stuck.

"Yeah that's right!“ Loki shouted from an open window. "Try following us you sons of bitches! Thanks for the goodybag! And the hat!“

"What the fuck, Loki!“ Tony shouted when he dropped back into his seat. “What did you do?“

"I lost my car in cards. So I took this, when they weren't looking,“ Loki lifted his bag. “I knew they’d come after me, so I cut their coils and planned to join the first dude leaving that place. Luckily, you guys showed up first.“ Loki didn't seem bothered by his crimes. The only thing that mattered was his loot. He picked out the first thing and showed it to them. It was a rusted box with large cigars inside, longer than his fingers.

"Look at these beauties,“ Loki breathed amorously. "They're pre-war. Rich dudes in Sugarland will crawl on the ground for a puff. This is the best day of my life...“

"You'll get yourself killed one day,“ Tony rolled his eyes. "What would your brother think about this? How is he doing anyway?“

"Thor? He's in Asgard, I guess. Licking my father's shoes, fucking whores, I don't know.“

"So you're playing the rebellious son who ran away from home?“ Tony chuckled.

"Man, give me a break. That stronghold is boring as hell. All those rules and policies. Only to bend you. It's the outside world that gives you freedom. I can do whatever I want here!“

"And get shot...“

"Tony, I'm really, really thirsty,“ Peter said quietly. His throat was dusty and scratchy.

"We've been through this, kid,“ Tony responded, voice a bit softer than earlier.

"Here, have some of mine,“ Loki offered him his round heavy flask and Peter finally drank. Every sip tasted like salvation. When he returned it, he felt much better, although his body still burned from the heat.

"Thank you.“

"No problem. Maybe you'll finally cheer up a bit. C'mon kid! We're going to Sugarland! Yaaay!“ Loki raised his hands and hit the roof of their car several times. 

Peter leaned away from him, tired from his buoyancy, and lied down on his seat. Loki kept talking the whole way. Tony responded to him more or less lukewarmly. 

They drove the whole night. They only stopped once for a restroom break and to refill the tank from one of the petrol canisters they had stored in the trunk. They also found some cans with food in the back, so they finally silenced their hunger after a long day.

Peter mostly slept during the journey, but sometimes he peeked out of the window to see the stars. They looked so tranquil and beautiful, like casted diamonds. If only Peter could swap places with them. He needed peace in his mind, but it was a luxury he couldn't afford right now. Whenever he was bothered before, he used to pray. That way he could put order into his thoughts and felt better. But now, his mind was at war and he denied addressing God in his prayers. He was still mad at him. So mad it made his heart ache.

The sun rose again. When it was high in the sky, they finally saw Sugarland City on the horizon. Even from a distance it looked enormous. The buildings weren't very tall so the largest one was a shiny ferris wheel in the centre. The city seemed to be drowning in a strange white mist and after a second Peter realized it was probably dense smog. What kind of hell hole were they entering now?

The front gate of the city strongly reminded Peter of the Monastery, except it was built from massive iron plates, just like the rest of the walls. Above it hung a group of letters made out of old lightbulbs, forming the word SUGARLAND. On the side of the gate, there were several hanged corpses swinging in the wind grotesquely. The flesh on their bodies had turned gray and two black condors sitting above them were about to have a feast.

"Why are they letting them rot here?“ Peter asked.

"It's a warning,“ Tony explained. "They're showing that the city is in order and under a strict law.“

"Then is it safe going in, if there's a bounty on your head?“

"Sugarland is a grey area,“ Loki joined their conversation smoothly. He had been trying to fall asleep for some time, but he obviously gave up as they began talking. "Unless you commit a crime here, they don't care who you are. It's the best place to be if you're smart and know your way around. Also, you can meet all sorts of people here who will sell you things you can't even dream of. Trade is the main reason this whole place exists. How come you don't know this? Have you been living under a rock?“

"Something like that,“ Tony smiled bitterly. Peter swallowed an insult.

The authorities let them in without any trouble. Tony only kept nodding obediently while the guards quickly explained what was going to happen to them if they committed a crime. Peter wasn't thinking about breaking their law in the first place, but after he heard “hacked alive” he made sure not to get any smart ideas.

Only a small part of the city was in transit, so Tony drove as far as he could and then parked in one of the rentable garages. Loki's face was happier than the face of a child that just got a lollipop. He took his bag and threw it on his back, then he found an old-school pair of sunglasses and put them on.

"It's so good to be back,“ he said, taking a deep breath. Peter was anxious. Everything seemed to be built from scratch. People seemed to have used materials that were left after the war so some of the buildings had the most bizzare structures. A lot of it seemed like it was going to fall apart very soon, so Peter made sure not to stand too close to anything.

As they walked deeper to the heart of the city, Peter's eyes grew wider until he wasn't even blinking, just to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything. The city was a fountain of colours, sounds and smells, from the nicest to the worst. It was a sump and a paradise at the same time. And the people. So diverse, so full of life. Women with vibrating colours painted around their eyes, some of them covered in embroidered shawls, others walking around with bare breasts. They had braids, dreadlocks, or no hair at all. Men smoking, trading or playing board games on the street. Children running around between scraps and faeces, laughing and screaming. Small windows opened in narrow alleys playing loud music, brightly colored laundry hung between buildings. People argued, fought, kissed and danced. It was heaven and hell. And Peter was stunned by it.

Loki decided they’d go get themselves a drink. Alcohol was usually homemade out of prickly pears. Bottles with pre-war drinks were a luxury, only for the rich. Loki ordered a shot of a prickly pear spirit for each one of them. Peter watched Tony and Loki tilt their heads back and let the liquid slide down their throats. He wasn't sure if he could do the same. He had had alcohol before, Prior used to let him taste from his cup of wine several times. It didn't taste very good, but it was a fun feeling, getting a bit tipsy. Only this time it wasn't wine and definitely not just a tiny sip.

"What are you waiting for, kid?“ Loki asked and punched his shoulder. The music was very loud so he had to raise his voice.

"Hey, go easy on him,“ Tony said and pressed himself between them. "Kid, you don't have to drink it, if you don't want to.“

"I'm fine,“ Peter said determinately. He was the kid again. It was so annoying. A quick spark of bravery made him drink it just like the men did a second ago. He regretted it right away. He felt dizzy and his throat burned. He coughed in disgust and Loki laughed.

"Another?“

Loki disappeared during the evening and left Peter and Tony on their own. Loads of alcohol and barely any food made Peter so drunk he could hardly stand on his own. He was off the chain. Dancing and joking with strangers, especially one old toothless man. Later that evening he burst into tears when the same toothless man was hugging him and he kept talking about his loss and how grateful he was to have somebody who listened to him, since ‘that jerk’ ignores him all the time.

It was about midnight, when Tony couldn't just look at Peter embarrassing himself anymore and decided to leave with him. The walk helped Peter sober up anyway.

"This is the last time I allow anything like this,“ Tony hissed while he was supporting a tottering teenager. "Damn you, Loki, for leaving me with this kid, this is all your fault.“

"Don't call me kid!“ Peter shouted and got himself out of Tony's grip.

"Then why are you acting like one all the time? “ Tony asked, holding back his anger. "Always whining, crying, disobeying me and acting like a complete brat. If there's anything more to being a kid, then I would be sincerely surprised.“

"You're so mean!“ Peter shouted even louder. "Several hours ago I lost everything, just have mercy on me! You don't have any idea-“

"Don’t I?!“ Tony yelled back, but then he lowered his voice so much, only Peter could hear him. "I'm becoming really tired of your bullshit, boy. You don't know shit about me. We're not friends or brothers or  _ anything _ . We're just two strangers who met a few days ago. You have no right to talk to me like this.“

"Then why are you still with me?“ Peter asked listlessly. “Just leave me here and go your own way. If I die, nothing will change. I don't even care anymore.“

"I'm very tempted,“ Tony answered. “But leaving kids unattended is a crime here.“

"I hate you!“

"Let's go!“

"Wait-“

At that moment a spring of vomit shot out of Peter’s mouth. Tony jumped away at the last second. Peter bent over powerlessly and the sound of sloshing liquid filled the empty street. Tony was furious. He waited for Peter to let it all out, and then he grabbed him forcefully and led him away.

"You're a nightmare,“ he said as they passed another loud nightclub.


	5. Wandering

Headache. The first thing Peter felt as he opened his eyes. Sunlight found a way through a hole in a thin curtain and it hurt his sight. He put a hand against it and yawned.

It was like a car ran over him last night. His head felt like something was constantly crushing it with a brick. His bladder was so impossibly full it hurt and his tongue was drier than sandpaper. He also still could taste a sour taste of vomit somewhere deep inside his throat. He raised his head and looked around. 

He was inside a small room that was completely painted in baby blue, including the ceiling. The plaster was crumbling and except for some old postcards glued on the wall, there weren't any other decorations.

Peter was lying on some tough matrace in his tank top, bundled up in a thin quilt and on the floor next to him was a bucket with some of his vomit left on the bottom. He could hear children screaming outside and Tony snoring on the ground. He wasn't too far from him, with his jacket stuck under his head and covered with a bright orange crochet blanket, that only added to the feeling they're having a sleepover at grandma's house. In the next room was a tawny brown couch made out of teared leatherette. Loki was sleeping on it, in his underwear, covering his face with that cowboy hat. He must have gone to sleep when the sun was rising. Peter partly remembered him coming home.

The boy couldn't ignore the needs of his body anymore, so he got up to find a toilet, or anything similar to it. He took his bucket with him. The place they were staying at was probably one of many flats in one large house. There was a toilet, but it was broken and filled with garbage so he decided to go outside. The main door had no lock, just a huge a hole and a plain piece of wire that closed the door from the inside. Peter entered a small hall with stairs and walked straight down. There were strange men with long beards sleeping on the landings looking like enormous elephant seals lying on a beach, snoring loudly.

Peter went outside and saw a small courtyard stuffed with junk so he hid behind an old rusty car body and relieved himself. After that he wasn't sure where to pour out his bucket, but then he saw a woman spilling her sewage simply on the ground, so he did the same. When he returned, nothing changed. Both of his companions were dead asleep. 

Peter walked around the flat on his tiptoes, sipping a cup of water from a small portable tank he found in a kitchen, and looked at things that were lying around. Some of them were pre-war, but most of it was just random junk. After the tour, Peter was bored. He was thinking about going back to sleep, but Tony's snoring made him change his mind. Later he found some dried meat and eat it without hesitation.

It was strange having nothing to do. Back in The Monastery everything was in order. Everyone knew exactly when to get up, to eat or to wash themselves. There were at least two masses and commune prayings everyday. The rest of their time was filled with chores or labour. A young novice like him was usually scrubbing the church floor, wiping off the dust, or sweeping the ground around sacral buildings. Maybe Peter wasn't always completely engaged in the masses or work, but he didn't know anything else and that's also why it was so unique and refreshing to take care of Tony. In a strange way he was something that woke Peter from a very long deep sleep. He was so ready to thank him for joining them. Now he couldn't even see his face. He wanted to laugh at it, but he had no strengh left.

As he was chewing a piece of meat slowly and looking out of the window, somebody entered the room.  
“Morning, kid,“ Loki yawned, wearing worn boxers and simple green t-shirt.  
“Hello,“ Peter nodded.  
“Did you sleep well?“  
“Well, luckily I don't remember the worst parts.“ the boy laughed bitterly.  
“Damn, you must be hungover as hell. How come you're up so early anyway?“ Loki smiled, making them something to eat. It smelled so nice, Peter had to sit closer to him, by the old scratched table.  
“I'm used to from The Monas... from home. We used to wake up at dawn every day.“  
“Wow, that's when I usually go to bed. Here, have a garlic soup. It's not much but it will warm you up.“ Loki put a flaming hot plate in front of him and sat by the other side of the table.  
“Thank you.“ Peter grabbed a spoon and began eating. After a few sips he felt a sweet warmth washing over him.  
“How did you and Tony meet anyway?“ Loki asked after a minute of silent eating.  
“We found Tony in a desert, about a week ago. We helped him and after a few days the Iron clan attacked us. Tony ran away and took me with him,“ Peter explained simply. He didn't want to dig too deeply into the recent past. That wound was still bleeding.  
“That's fucked up ,“ Loki shook his head in honest pity. “Tony's life is such a mess. He can't get a moment of rest.“  
“But why? What did he do?“  
“Maybe you should ask him. I don't know all the details, to be honest and I don't want to tell you things based on gossip,“ Loki said evasively and quickly finished his soup. More secrets, Peter started to get sick of them. He wanted to know more, and even push a little bit, but his headache made him change his mind.  
“So you're from that Asgard place?“ he asked instead.  
“Yeah, my parents own it. It's a stronghold way up north where Alaska used to be. It has a lot of resources, but living there is tough. When you don't follow the strict rules, you're out. But people would do anything to stay there, it's the safest place in miles. I've seen them doing some sick shit to each other, when their position was endangered. That's why I left. I'm happier outside anyway.“ Loki sighed heavily. “Listen, I'm going to do some business today, and Tony is probably going with me. You coming too?“  
“Sure-“  
“He's staying right here,“ Tony was standing in a door frame. He had messy bed hair and dark circles under his bronze eyes. He was wearing only his black tank top and red boxers and the light of his blue heart glowed through the fabric on his chest.  
“What? Why?“ Peter shouted angrily. He immediately woke the fire from last night's fight.  
“Because it's dangerous. Also I don't want anybody seeing you with me.“ Tony walked past them and made himself a cup of instant coffee.  
“Hey, maybe it wouldn't be so bad,“ Loki tried convincing him. “He could use some toughening.“  
“I said no.“

Peter growled loudly and escaped to the other room, where he jumped on his matrace. Why is Tony so mean to him and why does he want to control him all the time?

After the men finished their breakfast in silence, both of them dressed and were about to leave, when Tony stopped at Peter's matrace. The boy was lying on his stomach, facing the wall.

“We're leaving. Expect us in the evening.“ The man said to him. “The kitchen is full of food. Just don't go anywhere, do you hear me? And lock the door when we leave.“  
“Hmf,“ Peter moaned and listened to Tony's footsteps leaving the room. When the door shut, Peter got up and quickly went to the window. After a while he saw the two of them walking down the street, Loki talking without stopping as usual and Tony acting like he wasn't even there. He waited for them to disappear in a crowd, and after another ten minutes he dressed himself and ran outside.

The streets were crowded. People were sitting on every corner. The strangest thing was, that nobody was paying any attention to Peter whatsoever. Almost like he was invisible and it was the most freeing feeling ever. In The Monastery people always stared, even after those years. He got so used to it, it was almost unnatural not being noticed by anyone. In Sugarland, he was just another drop in the ocean of unique people and oddities. As Peter walked through the city, every once in a while he imagined Tony coming home and looking for him desperately. It was strangely satisfying.

After a few miles of walk Peter began to notice something darker, under the colourful layer of the city. Tighter alleys on the sides of main street were full with impoverished people, lying on the ground. Most of them looked like they've been starving for a long time, others had severe dark holes in the crook of their arms. People without limbs or teeth, children offering their bodies to people passing by in pink lightened entrances. Beggars reaching to him, whining and begging for water or _sugar_. Peter even saw some men in jackets with the word Sugarland painted on their back, walking through the alleys with a barrow and loading corpses on it. Peter felt sick just by looking at them. He never saw this level of misery before. He had to turn away and go some other way.

Suddenly he was in some kind of a market place. There were many colourful tents and each of them had a table with exhibited goods right in front of the entrance. Peter walked around them slowly, embracing the atmosphere, hoping he'd calm himself down after that nightmare he saw earlier. Sun above his head was merciless and it only made his hangover worse. He wasn't sure if he's going to throw up again, so he stopped at one tent and hid in the shadows. This one was also open for business and Peter had to admire an exhibition of embroidered shawls, proudly displayed on a table. He walked around them for a second, enjoying the coolness of a shadow.

“Are you gonna buy or what,“ Peter heard a girly voice from the tent. After a second an olive skinned girl walked out, with her dark bushy hair tied in a simple ponytail. She was wearing patched denim pants and a jacket with black t-shirt under it. The t-shirt used to have a print on it, but it got washed away ages ago, now there was just a white stain. As she came closer, Peter noticed something that took his breath away – three dots tattooed right under her right eye. He had never seen anyone before who had the same mark as him.  
“So? Did you pick one?“ She raised her eyebrows eagerly, scanning him with a scornful look.  
“I-I'm just looking,“ Peter studered, not being able to interrupt the stare.  
“Do you think I'm stupid?“ The girl hissed like a rattlesnake. “If you want to steal, go somewhere else. I won't hesitate to put a hole through you, understand?“  
She put her hand inside her jacket threateningly. Peter made a step back and was about to leave quickly, when he heard another woman's voice from the tent. She was saying something in a strange language that Peter couldn't understand. The girl turned her bushy head and answered. The woman said something back and the girl rolled her eyes and let go of a gun she had hidden in her side pocket.

Soon after that the other woman walked out of the tent. She was beautiful, with her tanned skin and sleek figure, although she could be Peter's mother. Her hair was so long and shiny, it was reaching her thin waist and she had a gorgeous azure blue shawl around her shoulders. Peter noticed she was also inked on her face.

She put her arm around the girl and talked to her with a charming smile. Then she looked at Peter.  
“Sorry about her, she didn't mean to be rude. Especially to our own kind.“  
“Oh, you mean this?“ Peter touched his face, covered in salty sweat.  
“Of course, you're one of us,“ she smiled. “Spiders are connected forever. Although I bet you left your clan just like we did, since you're not with them right now. Please, call me May.“  
“No, you're wrong, I'm not a Spider, I never was, I'm... I'm just Peter,“ he said, getting dizzier and dizzier every second.  
“Peter... are you okay? You look awful.“  
“I... I have to go back...“  
“Peter!“

When Peter woke up, he was lying in between embroidered pillows in a strange place. After a moment of panic he realized he was in one of the tents. The interior was very simple – colourful rugs and pillows on the ground with a stove in the centre. 

There were hanging other shawls from the ceiling, creating a magical, dreamy atmosphere. Peter noticed a sweet scent coming from the furniture and it felt strangely homely. The Monastery always missed this gentle, woman's touch. Everything in there was raw and plain, mode of stone and wood, no decorations in sight. This was a sweet change.

When Peter turned his head he saw somebody sitting next to him. It was a heavy boy, probably his age. His face was buried in something that looked like a colourful pre-war comic magazine with pictures of space ships and he seemed very engrossed by it. Peter noticed he was missing his left arm. The fact that he was enjoying something that was a great part of Peter's early teenage years made him immediately like him.  
“I love Star Wars,“ Peter said. The boy nearly dropped the magazine. He looked at him confused for a moment and then looked back at the paper.  
“Oh you mean this?“ he asked.  
“Yeah,“ Peter tried to sit up, but pain in his head forced him to lie back down. “Back in the Monastery father Stephen bought me a few of these for my birthday when I turned thirteen. From a caravan. I couldn't stop reading them. One time I got caught reading one during a confession and I had to draw a cross in front of the altair fifty times with my own tongue. I couldn't eat properly for at least a week after that.“ He chuckled at his own memory.  
“Right,“ the boy nodded with obvious uninterest.  
“Which character do you like the most? I just love Boba Fett and Chewbacca.“  
The boy began laughing. “ What kind of names are those? Did you just make them up? Bobby Fat? Chew-what?“  
“But those are characters from the Star Wars comics. You just read it...“ Peter was confused. Meanwhile the boy was wiping off tears that ran down his face. He was laughing so hard, Peter forced himself to get up again and ignoring the pain he ran out. He stayed there for way too long anyway, Tony and Loki are probably already looking for him.

“Peter, you're leaving so early? You're still not well enough!“ May stopped him at the front entrance.  
“Sorry, I have to go, someone's waiting for me. Thank you for your help.“  
“It was my pleasure. But please, do come back again. There's not a lot of Spiders in the town, we have to stick together. People don't like us here or anywhere really and we're a family.“  
“My family is dead,“ shot Peter immediately. Those words hurt. He didn't look at her and was about to run out, but somebody else blocked his way out. He felt May's hands grabbing him and pulling him back from the stranger. It was an odd tall man with scarred face. One of his eyes was missing. He looked dangerous and furious. The atmosphere has changed so quickly, Peter knew he was screwed. This is it. Tony and Loki are never going to find him.  
“You know why I'm here, May,” the man spoke. “And I won't leave without it.”  
“We don't have it!” May said stepping forward. “Next month, just like we promised!”  
“May, darling, this is the third time you've moved the date. You give me no choice,” the man shook his head.  
“Wait, we can talk about this, maybe we could give you something else,” the woman begged.  
“Do you see this?” a man stopped her and rolled up his sleeve. There was an ugly festered wound on his arm. It must have been very fresh, maybe a day or two old.  
“This is what they did to me, after they found out I still don't have it. I have people above me who want results, May, and you've failed. Now I have to teach everyone a lesson, because of you,” he said and reached for something he was hiding behind his belt. Peter knew what's coming.  
“Watch out!” he yelled and tried to push May behind him. He heard a loud shot and a second later he was on the ground. Time almost stopped at that moment, he could see every thread on each shawl hung on the ceiling. He dropped between pillows and sudden pain pulsed on his left shoulder, right under his collarbone. When he touched it, he felt hot blood.

And then he panicked.  
“Oh my god!” he cried, pressing on the wound as blood was squirted through his fingers. He had no idea what was going on around him, he heard people screaming and somebody fired again. The fat boy without an arm has crawled to him.  
“Jesus...nngh.. help!”  
“Take the bullet out!” The boy propted. “You don't have much time!”  
“No! Prior always said-”  
“I' ll do it then,” he pushed his hands away and buried his fingers deep inside the wound. Peter screamed. He tried to get the boy off him, push his hands away, but the two women grabbed him and forced him to stop resisting.   
“Stop it, stop it!!” he shouted, shaking furiously. The boy's fingers were moving inside, more blood was coming out and it took him forever until he finally pulled the bullet out.  
“Got it!” He exalted and rose his hand covered in blood. There was a piece of metal sparkling between his fingers.  
“Are you crazy?!” Peter shouted with tears in his eyes. “You could have hurt me even more! How long do you think it's going to take for it to heal now, huh?”  
“Dude, it's already healing,” the boy pointed.  
“Wha-” Peter looked down at his shoulder and noticed that it stopped bleeding. The hole changed with every second, after a moment it looked like the wound was closing.  
“What the hell?” Peter panicked.  
“Wait, you didn't know about this?” The girl asked. “That your body can do this?”  
Peter shook his head.  
“You never thought why are people so scared of us? The Spiders? Because we can heal like crazy. We have better senses and all of that stuff. That's why people hate us, we're supernatural.”

Peter stared at them, paralyzed. He has never heard about any of this. That's why every time he scratched his knee it healed in a day, but he thought that was normal. Something that happens to everybody. And prior Stephen has never talked about it. But he must have known, everyone must have. Peter remembered when he moved to The Monastery, he was severely abused by its habitants, especially boys his age. They would beat him until he bled every day, but Peter has never remembered struggling with it physically. Maybe that's why they were doing it so shamelessly. They just knew he's going to be alright the next day.

“Where's that man? Are we safe?” He asked, looking around. Everyone was on the floor with him. May was cleaning the blood off his chest.  
“He's gone,” the girl explained. “I shot him, but he ran away. He'll be back though. I'm sorry, May. I should have expected this.”  
“It's okay, darling. We've become a part of something way too dangerous. It was a mistake that could cost us our lives.”  
“What was it all about?” Peter asked.  
“He hired us to find something for him. You see, there are many pieces of technology from the Blue age. It's very valuable, but hard to find, a lot of the Sugarland folk are hiding it.”  
“Blue age?”   
The boy rolled his eyes. “God, you're green. Blue age was before the war. When people reached the peak of technology. Some tribes hate talking about it, they say that things from the Blue age bring bad luck. But otherwise there are plenty of collectors who are willing to pay a fortune for it.”  
“We wanted to make some money,” May said,” we thought it was harmless, but when we realized we became a part of the Sugarland mafia, it was too late. Children, we have to move again. I'm sorry.”  
“Where?” Peter asked.  
“Don't know, some place they can't find us easily. Then we'll figure out what to do.” She turned at Peter. “You should go home, darling. We don't want to cause you any more trouble. Ned will see you home.”  
“No problem.” The boy without an arm nodded.  
“What about the wound? Shouldn't we at least disinfect it with alcohol?”  
“It's going to be alright. I can give you some camel lard if you want.” She smiled. “But there's a lot of blood on your clothes, maybe we could borrow you something…”

In the end Peter walked home with an old black shirt with a strange print on it. His shoulder was still in pain, and he could barely move with it, but the wound was successfully clotted and there was no more blood.

“May seem to like you a lot,” Ned said. “She convinced MJ to lend you her ACDC shirt. She values these more than anything.”  
“Never heard of it,” Peter admitted.   
“It's a hard rock band, you must have heard of pre-war music,” he raised his eyebrows.  
“Well I do know about it but I've never listened to it.”  
“Then ask MJ, she knows people who have it on their…” he looked around, made sure no one is close enough to listen, “...their ipods. But you don't know it from me.”  
“Right, maybe next time,” he smiled politely, since he was embarrassed to admit he doesn't know what's an ipad either. The rest of the walk they spend in silence.  
“This is the place I live. It was nice meeting you,” Peter wanted to shake his hand, but Ned gave him a high-five instead.  
“Same! See ya!” and he left. Peter stood there for a moment, the palm of hand was burning from how hard he hit it, feeling oddly satisfied. He watched him disappear behind a corner in silence. They went through a terrible experience a moment ago and he's acting so casually. All of them. Is there anything in Sugarland that can make people feel down?

The men came back as the sun was setting down. Both of them sweaty and exhausted. Tony went to the tank to wash his face and Loki sat next to Peter on a matrace.  
„So how was your trip to the city?“ he asked casually while lighting a cigarette. Peter's face turned bleach white in a nanosecond.  
„I went to check on you, Tony sent me.“ Loki explained.  
„Did you tell him?“ Peter whimpered.  
„Fuck no, I ain't no snitch!“ Loki grunted offendedly. „You're a kid, you should go outside and get some experience. Nobody's gonna do that for you. I mean kids ten years younger than you are running on the street, facing danger. So where did you go?“  
„I... well I was just wandering around, admiring the city.“ Peter said, trying to move away from the smoke.  
„Anything interesting happened?“  
„Not really... but can I ask you something? Why is this place called Sugarland?“  
„Because of the _sugar_ , duh,“ Loki laughed.  
„What does it mean?“  
„You know. Coke, meth, molly… All of it. There are the best cooks in the world here. They make some fine stuff and if you know where to get it for the lowest price, you're a happy man.“  
„You mean drugs?“  
„What else? It's the only thing that keeps some people alive here. But not for long, to be honest.“  
„I've seen that,“ Peter's voice got lower and he remembered what he saw on the streets. Loki patted his shoulder like an older brother.  
„Sorry, kid. You'll get used to it. Anyway, this is for you.“ Loki reached for his bag and a second later he dropped a pair of white dirty sneakers on Peter's lap. “Tony saw them at the market and I haggled with the seller for at least twenty minutes before he sold them to me for the price I wanted. They seem to be your size. Go on, try them.”  
Peter quite clumsily put them on, tied the shoelaces, and made a few steps around the room. They were way different than his old novice sandals, but otherwise quite comfortable.  
Loki was excited. “Look at you! You're starting to get the Sugarland look.”  
The boy laughed. “Thank you.”

Tony showed up later and said he's going to sleep. When Peter asked him what he was doing all day, he just lay on the hard floor with a tired moan and said it's none of Peter's business.  
 _Whatever,_ Peter thought and lay down too, decided not to get angry before falling asleep.


	6. Bonding

Peter stank. He hasn't washed himself properly since they left The Monastery and it's been thirteen days. It was repulsive. His scalp was itchy, his body smelled for miles and he couldn't get rid of the dirt under his nails.

Back in The Monastery he used to take a shower every day. Very quick one, but it was enough to keep him clean and fresh. They also made their own soaps from herbs. He brushed his teeth twice a day, even if it was with just water, and chewed mint leaves after dinner. That was a nice habit prior Stephen taught him and Peter felt like he's going to die without it. He had no idea how Tony and Loki kept themselves clean. He only saw Tony washing his face vigorously every day before bed time and that was it. Loki sometimes looked like he despised water, he never touched it nor drank it. At least not in front of them.

“I want to take a shower,“ Peter said one morning, during breakfast. Both of the men looked at him surprisingly, almost like he just admitted he's The Gunporr himself.  
“Damn and I want a palace on a beach,“ Loki shouted and hit the table with his fist.  
“I mean it,“ Peter looked at Tony determinately, who was leaning over a kitchen unit, like he was every morning, holding his cup of instant coffee.  
“My body is so greasy it's disgusting.“ He appealed. He pointed at his hair that desperately needed a proper wash, and Tony in that moment did something very strange. He made a step in his direction, then he bent his back and pressed his nose into the boy's hair. In the next second he was gone.  
“It's not that bad,“ he said and he wiped his nose with a fingers, meanwhile Peter's cheeks caught on fire. He quickly reached for the place where Tony touched him and it felt like he just branded him.  
“But if you have to, just pour some water from the tank into a bucket and wash yourself with a sponge.“  
“I do that daily,“ Peter declared, still blushing. “But it's not like a real shower. Also I don't have any soap.“  
“Well unfortunately you live in times where water is rationed and a soap is a luxury. You have to realize you're in the real world, not that utopia anymore.“  
“Don't talk badly about The Monastery! We treated you decently as I remember!“ Peter got angry, again. Tony straightened his back and pointed his finger at the boy, parting his lips to say something, when Loki suddenly got up.  
“Guys,“ he signed rolling his eyes annoyedly, “can we have _one_ normal breakfast without you two fighting like kids in a sandbox? It really makes me want to move out.“  
“You're right, we have better things to do anyway,“ Tony finished his coffee quickly and put the empty cup in the sink. It was full of dirty dishes already and starting to stink.  
“Listen kid, can you wash the dishes, while we're gone?“ He turned at him quickly. “Just don't waste the water, ok? You can wash yourself in it later if you want.“  
Peter waited for him to turn away and then he pointed a middle finger at his back. When they left, he returned to his matrace. He had his new shirt tucked up under his pillow. If Tony sees it, he'll start asking questions. Peter guessed in this world people don't get new clothes easily.

After a few hours Peter went in front of the house and sat down in a cool shadow. Next to him sat a man with a wide hat, smoking, and across the street there was a group of elderly women knitting. Peter watched them lowering their silver heads closer to their hands, so they could see better and he wondered what their stories were. How did they get here and what brought them here in the first place? Or were they born here? One of the ladies had a few fingers missing on her right hand but she kept knitting without any obvious trouble, just like her friends.

Peter had to admire the unique strength inside of people, that keeps them going no matter how tough the life seemed to get. He could use some of that. After the attack on The Monastery, he fell into a deep depression. The only thing he wanted was to do nothing or take the piss out of Tony. Maybe fighting with him and getting himself angry was the only thing that made him forget for a second the hell he'd been through. Otherwise he still could see prior dying in front of him, again and again, like a broken record. Even in his dreams. He was so tired, he couldn't even cry anymore, like a spring that went dry. He felt weak. Maybe Tony and Loki are right, after all he's still just a stupid kid.

He missed Prior Stephen so much. He missed The Monastery and all of the people in it. Maybe he also missed the Abbot, because he realized that even if the whole Monastery got burned to the ground and only the Abbot would stay alive, Peter wouldn't hesitate to stay with him. Now he's with Tony and Loki and he doesn't know a thing about them. Also their secrecy didn't help at all.

“Hey, it's you!“ Peter heard a familiar voice above him and turned his head. It was that girl, with bushy hair and washed out t-shirt. MJ. She was holding a large basket in her hands.  
“You were at our tent a few days ago!“  
“Hey,“ Peter greeted her, getting up on his feet. “How are you?“  
“Dude, May is talking about you all the time, it's so annoying.“ She groaned.  
“May? Oh, you mean that woman with a blue shawl?“ Peter remembered.  
“Yeah, that's her. She wants to see you. Could you come with me?“  
“You mean right now?“ Peter raised his eyebrows and looked around, almost as if he expected Tony standing behind the closest corner.  
“I'm a busy person, so yeah, right now.“ She moved with the basket in her hands so she could hold it easily and walked away. Peter went with her.  
“Do you need a hand?“ He asked her politely, as he caught up with her. “It looks heavy.“  
“Nope, I'm good. Just follow me, quickly.“  
“Alright.“

They walked into the busy veins of the city. Michelle was walking as an experienced native. She was dodging people, overstepping immobile bodies on the ground, coldly passing beggars reaching to her and ignoring intrusive men shouting and whistling at her from a distance. She didn't look over her shoulder once to see if Peter is still with her. The boy had a lot of trouble keeping up with her, but since she knew the way so well, they were soon at their destination.

Their new home looked very similar to the old one, except it was less exposed to the sun. The tent was placed among others on a skeleton of a bulding. May there, with her feet hanging over the edge of a wall, embroidering another shawl. When she heard their steps, she rose her head and nearly stabbed herself.  
“MJ-“  
“Yeah, I found him. I'm gonna put this in the back.“ the girl said unbiasedly and walked past her. The woman went straight to Peter, but this time she left a bit more space between them.  
“You're here,“ she smiled hesitantly. “And I have to apologize for the last time. We were careless, right now we're much better protected. People at this part of the city take care of each other."  
“Don't worry about it," Peter said with a nervous smile. "MJ told me you want to see me.“  
“I do,“ she nodded, maybe a bit too vigorously. “Anyway, would you like some tea? I made one a minute ago.“  
“Sure, why not,“ Peter nodded. He let her hold his hand as they walked inside the tent.  
He sat down between pillows and May put a hot cup of tea in his hands, then she sat next to him.  
“So you're from the Spider clan...“ Peter said plainly. His throat was so dry he had trouble speaking.  
“Yes,“ May admitted. “But I left them soon after they traveled north. I couldn't stay with them, I hated what they were doing to other children. Like Michelle or Ned. Once we drove past Sugarland, I decided to stay here. We are free here, free from those awful things.“  
“What kind of tradition?“ Peter asked.  
“For example, forcing little girls to use their bodies,“ said Michelle, suddenly showing up in an entrance. "For ritual reasons.“  
"Jesus...“ Peter didn't know what to say.  
"When I ran away I took them with me. It's so hard outside on your own, I'm not surprised that many people are stuck in cults and tribes that treat them terribly. We were lucky to find Sugarland and start again. This place is awful, but we can manage to have a somewhat good life.”  
Another person has entered the tent. It was that boy without an arm.  
"Ned, you remember Peter, right?“ May smiled.  
"Sure,“ he nodded. “He knows the picture book I have.”  
“Oh you do, Peter? So you boys have something in common!” May exulted.  
"It's not just pictures, it's a comic book,” Peter spoke shyly.  
"Comic?” Everyone looked at him.  
"Yes, it's called Star Wars. I've read a lot of those.”  
"You can read old english?” MJ smirked doubtfully.  
"I mean...” Peter looked at all the faces staring at him. “I can. Yes.”  
His new friends looked at each other, not sure how to react. Peter realized he had no right to be surprised, that people can't read it.  
"If-if you want,” he stuttered,” I can read it to you.”  
"We don't need you to do-” MJ started, but Ned pushed her away and sat right next to Peter with a comic already in his hand.  
"Read it.” He commanded as a little child with wide, starry eyes.  
"Uh, sure,” Peter found the first page and took a deep breath.

As he walked back, he kept thinking about how comfortable May and the others made him feel. Earlier that day, he felt like he won't be able to feel good around people for the rest of his life. It was that familiar warm feeling he was used to so much he forgot what it's like when it's not there.

Loki was standing in the middle of a street, smiling at him. Peter was in such a good mood it didn't even stagger him.  
"Did you have fun?” Loki asked when he was close enough.  
"I did,” he smiled.  
"I'm surprised to see you in such a good mood,” Loki smirked. "Are you ready for more fun?”  
"Ah- I guess?”  
"Follow me.”

They walked a path Peter hasn't walked yet. They entered a house, walked down the stairs and ended up in some kind of underground tunnel. Peter felt blessed when cold air brushed against his sweaty body. They walked through a long hall and then entered some kind of sewers where they crawled for a few meters until they got out into a spacious room without any windows.  
"Here we are, this is a secret place, only for VIP members of the Sugarland club.”  
"So?” Peter asked. Loki simply pointed to the roof where Peter saw five shower heads. He nearly jumped.  
"Are you serious?”  
"Just a second this is part of the surprise,” Loki smiled and took something out of his sack. Peter looked at it and saw a pre-war shampoo bottle.  
"That's-” he gasped.  
"It cost a fortune, so be grateful. Now we have to be quick, we could lose our necks for this!”  
Taking a shower after all that time felt like a redemption. Peter wanted to cry, when water hit his head, ran down his face and body and the dirt slowly disappeared in the drain. After using the shampoo, his hair smelled nice again and he felt like he was reborn. He just had to tilt his head back and enjoy the cold drops falling on his face.

"What's that?” Loki spoke all of a sudden. Peter opened his eyes and after he wiped the water off his face, he realized Loki was staring at his wound.  
"It.. it was an accident. My body will heal don't worry,” he tried to explain quickly but Loki's face was way too serious. Peter had never seen him this worried.  
"What happened?” he asked.  
"I- I don't even know, somebody just walked out of a corner and wanted something from me and when he found out I don't have it he shot me and ran away, I don't know who he was but please don't tell Tony. I'm fine, really,” Peter was talking so fast he was stumbling over his own tongue.  
"Are you sure it will heal on its own?”  
"Y-yeah, I'm a Spider, right? It's going to be okay.” Peter tried to smile.  
"If Tony finds out, we're both dead.”  
"I know, right? Let's keep it a secret, how about that?”  
Loki didn't answer af first. “I think you should stop going outside for a while. Just in case.”

Peter felt heartbroken when he heard it, but he couldn't argue against it. Loki was responsible for him. He was right, Tony would probably lock him up for good. They were silent for the rest of the shower. Peter was the first who spoke when they were on their way back.  
“I have to thank you, it made me feel a lot better.”  
“Don't thank me, you should thank the big daddy. He managed everything. Even the shampoo.”  
“Tony?” Peter stopped.  
“He really cares, you know. Maybe you should think about it more often.”  
Peter didn't say anything. He believed Tony hated him, or was annoyed by him. He had no reason to do this. No reason to be nice, after Peter kept treating him awfully all this time. As he was watching the back of Loki's head in front of him, he realized something.  
“I want to see him,” he claimed. Loki turned around.  
“Huh?”  
“Take me to Tony, I want to talk to him.”  
“He's going to shred us.” Loki warned him.  
“I don't mind, I just want to see him. Please, leave it to me, tell him I insisted.”  
“Alright,” something flickered in Loki's face and Peter recognized his usual playful smile. “Luckily it's not very far from here.”

Peter tried to remember the way, but it was mostly stairs that led them down, lower and lower into a long tunnel. It was an enormous underground workshop. Yet again it felt like entering an anthill, but no beggars on the ground this time, only workers. People here were working, mostly with metal. Each side of the tunnel was occupied with tables full of tools and iron. Peter had to be careful every time they walked past somebody welding, since the bright sparkles hurt his eyes. Men were hammering, shouting at each other and the metal was ringing louder than any church bell. It only took a few steps and Peter was just as sweaty as he was before his blissful shower.

They found Tony at the end. He was hammering a torrid piece of metal, shaping it into a desired form. He was half naked and his chest glossed with his sweat. He didn't notice them at first, he finished his work and put the burning metal into a bucket of water. It sizzled loudly and a cloud of thick steam rose to the ceiling. After it faded away, Tony looked up and nearly dropped everything.  
“What the hell is he doing here?”  
“Tony-”  
“I wanted to see you,” Peter walked forward, stepping over all the things lying on the ground. “I convinced Loki, because I'm tired of being at home all the time, not knowing where you guys are all day, and if you're safe.”  
Tony wiped his face with his tank top and sighed heavily. “Listen…”  
He stopped him right away. “No, you are going to listen to me for once. You're barely talking to me, and want to keep me constantly under a lock, but I've had enough. I want to be part of this.”  
“I get it, Peter,” Tony nodded. “But you, more than anyone else in this city, should know what could happen when you're around me. It's just not safe.”  
“Tony, don't you understand it? I have nothing to lose!”  
“You maybe don't, but I do!” Tony shouted.  
“Umm should I leave?” Loki spoke all of sudden, still standing on the same spot.  
“No, we're done here.” Tony shook his head and returned to his work.  
“The shower was nice,” Peter added looking at his back.  
“Don't get used to it.”  
“We should go, I warned you.” Loki whispered into the boy's ear and pulled his arm.

“Why is he always like this,” Peter cried as they walked.  
“Tony is a lone wolf, he would rather die than admit he has any feelings, trust me. When he's ready to talk about it, he'll find you. Be patient. Patience is a virtue, isn't it?”  
It was like he just heard prior Stephen's voice. Patience is a virtue… He used to say this so often Peter almost forgot how useful advice it was. All this he was so mad that Tony made this wall around him and didn't want to let him in, he could see how simple the whole thing was. Tony must have went through as much trauma as Peter did when The Monastery fell. And Peter blamed him for everything. Time. That's what they needed, both of them.  
“C'mon, kid. Stop the tears, it will be alright.”  
“Yeah… I know…”

Tony returned late at night, exhausted. He obviously didn't want to come home and put more work on his shoulder than he'd usually do. He dropped on his sleeping spot and took off his boots, threw them away and lay down with a moan. Peter was looking at him in silence. Today, Tony did something nice for Peter. The boy was always taught a man harvests what he sows. He wanted to return the favour. Tony has been sleeping on the floor for way too long anyway. He walked to him and leaned above him.  
“Tony, why don't we switch places for tonight? I can sleep on the floor and you on the matrace, what do you say?” he said, trying to sound friendly.  
“What? No.” Tony mouthed and gestured to him to leave him alone.  
“Tony, you're ruining your back. Let's switch, just for tonight, please. I don't have a problem with it. My bed in The Monastery was as hard as a log, it will feel like I'm back home.”  
“We're staying where we are.”  
“Okay, if that's what you want,“ Peter realized he has to switch to tough love. “But if you won't sleep on the matrace, I'm sleeping on the floor anyway.“ Peter said, lying down next to him. Tony kept ignoring him, so he signed loudly. “The matrace is empty tonight, what a pity.“  
The man suddenly opened his eyes. “What the fuck? Get back there!“ He got up, grabbed Peter from the floor and dragged him to the matrace. But Peter was strong enough to fight back. He pushed the man to the matrace instead and pinned him to it.  
“You're tired so you're sleeping on the matrace.” Peter decided.  
Tony stared at him, stunned by his sudden dominance. The two men looked at each other for a second and Peter realized he's sitting right on Tony's crotch. He jumped off him immediately.  
“I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Peter screamed blushing.  
“Why don't we share the matrace? Just for tonight?” Tony said quickly.  
“Ah- I mean.. sure…”  
"Could you guys shut up? I'm trying to get some sleep over here!“


	7. A new beginning

“Morning, Peter!” Ned stood in the kitchen holding a stack of comics underarm.  
“How did you get in here?” Peter looked at him from the table he was sitting by, eating his late breakfast.  
“Dude, the door was wide open. Someone must have forgotten to close it. Anyway, I found this!” he smacked all of his comics in front of him.   
“I thought I'll show it to you, when you visit us again, but it's been two weeks and I couldn't wait anymore. Maybe we could read them together?”  
“Why not, I hate being here on my own anyway,” Peter shook his shoulders. That was partly a lie. Peter had a plan for the day, but it was so embarrassing he couldn't just tell Ned.

It's been thirteen days since Tony and him began sharing one matrace. It became a natural thing. They also stopped fighting all the time. It was like somebody sprinkled magic dust on them. More importantly Peter remembered how he used to enjoy Tony's presence. Sometimes early in the morning, he watched his calm sleeping face. Tony looked so worn out most of the time. He had wrinkles on his face, dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a mess. It made Peter feel sad. He wished none of this would have happened. If they met somewhere else, maybe in a different life, things would be so much easier.

Everytime Tony and Loki left in the morning, Peter rolled to Tony's side of the matrace, to get some sleep because usually he spent the night with his eyes wide open. Everytime Tony moved, he nearly jumped. His heart was beating rapidly. What was he even scared of? Tony would never touch him inappropriately. Maybe it was just his presence, that was so vigorous and thrilling. Even when he was gone, there was a piece of him left - his smell. Peter realized he couldn't sleep with the scent of his sweat in the matrace - until he got rid of his erection.

Peter was fifteen, he knew about pleasure and sex, although he was a virgin himself. Prior Stephen tried to explain it to him, what it means to be a man. He spoke about it with him a few times, when Peter was entering puberty, but he made it very clear that this topic should be discussed in privacy. Peter figured out most by himself anyway. The Monastery was a closed community and there were many incidents when he walked in on people making love. Sometimes even monks. Peter was also aware of Prior's affair with one doctor. Peter knew he's with her when he couldn't find him after the evening mass. But those were things that people didn't talk about. Little open secrets of The Monastery.

And now he was stuck, having sexual fantasies about an older man who he met two months ago. Is it even normal for a man to love another man this way? At first Peter was trying to ignore his needs, he was putting a wet washcloth on his manhood to cool it down, thinking about awfuly unattractive things, but then he figured out that the quickest was to masturbate. But after that, things took a dramatic turn. From an awkward wank fully clothed on the broken toilet to a rousing orgasm while Peter's sprawling on the matrace naked and screaming Tony's name, risking Tony or Loki coming home early and catching him red handed.

He was embarrassed to tears after each incident. He felt like he was doing something filthy, something sodomic. He couldn't stop thinking about what would Prior, or the Abbot, say if they saw him doing this. He was in the service of Christ, a monk and he made a vow to live in purity. How weak he is, if he can't even stop pleasing himself once he's out of The Monastery.

In the end he was happy that Ned visited him. He had so much fun, the time flew insanely fast. Before they knew it was lunch time, then dinner time and when it got dark, Tony and Loki were home.   
“What's going on?” Loki asked.  
“This is Ned, my friend, we're reading comics.” Peter explained. Tony was in the back of the room, looking for something to drink. Peter scanned him with his eyes shortly, then he returned to the comic.  
“Cool. We brought you guys something to eat. Who's in the mood for some tomato sauce with camel milk and grilled Chuckwalla?”  
“Wow, now that's what I call a feast!” bursted Ned.   
“Thank you!” Loki cheered. “Finally there's somebody in this household who can appreciate how hard I'm trying. Could you give a hand?”  
“Sure!”

Peter joined them and helped prepare the dinner. Meanwhile Tony was hiding in the other room. Peter was wondering if he's lying on their matrace and it made him anxious. What if he knows that Peter did it there? The boy was always very precise when he was ejaculating. He always let it squirt on his stomach, but what if this time something dropped on the matrace? And Tony sees it and makes a scene? Peter felt like he's about to faint, when he had those thoughts. 

Later, when he was sent to tell Tony dinners ready, he tiptoed into the room with a heavy stomach. When he peeked in, he saw Tony sitting on the matrace, with his face in his hands. Peter froze when he saw him. He looked like a statue of a weeping Christ. But was he really crying? What should Peter do? Ask him if he's ok? Try to comfort him?

Peter remembered what Loki had told him. _Be patient, Tony will come to you_. Instead of pushing himself, he just walked in. Tony jerked immediately and tried to act casually.  
“Dinner's ready,” Peter said looking down at him. The man tried to look calm, but his eyes screamed he was caught.  
“I'll be there in a minute.”  
Peter didn't want to bother him anymore, so he just nodded politely and was about to leave.  
“New t-shirt?” Tony spoke all of sudden.  
“Y-yeah,” surprised Peter touched his chest anxiously. “Ned gave it to me. Is that alright?”  
“Absolutely. Ned has a good taste. Do you like ACDC?”   
“I-I don't know…” Peter stuttered.  
“Of couse you don't, it was stupid of me to ask,” he shook his head and got up to get dinner. Peter stared at him. Why is it always so hard talking to him? He watched the back of his neck, where his dark hair was the shortest and kept thinking about how much he's craving his attention. Stop being so awkward, idiot, he thought furiously. Tony was at the door, about to leave the room.  
“Would you show me?” he nearly screamed.   
“What?” Tony turned around.  
“W-would you show me ACDC?” His voice was shaking and he rubbed his hands anxiously. “Please?"  
He believed Tony's going to say something cold and mean again, but to his surprise, he smiled. It was a genuine soft smile, that brightened his eyes and made him look so much younger and kinder.  
“Why not? Whenever you like.”

The rest of the dinner Peter watched Tony having fun with the others and everytime he looked at him he gave him a tiny heart attack. It was an odd feeling, something between pleasure and pain, but Peter realized he was enjoying every second of it.  
“What happened to your arm?” Loki asked suddenly, reaching for more milk.  
“Oh, I don't remember, to be honest,” Ned shrouded, “I must have been very small when it happened. Maybe it got stuck in an engine? I think the bones got broken so many times, they had to cut it off. But it's ok, I can manage.”  
“You sure can,” Loki approved.  
“Before war people had prosthetics,” Tony said pensively.  
“I know,” Ned nodded. “Saw it in the comics.”  
“Wait, I know that look,” Loki laughed. “Tony's up to something.”  
“I'm just making calculations.”  
“What's going on?” Peter looked at each of his friends. Ned was confused, Loki was smiling from cheek to cheek and Tony was staring at his plate with an absent expression in his face  
“You know, Tony is an engineer.” the thin man said.  
“Are you telling that-” Ned gasped.  
“Yes.”  
“Hey, everybody calm down,” Tony put his hands in the air. “I'm not promising you anything. It's just an idea. I see what I can do, alright? We're very limited these days, I probably won't be able to get all the stuff I need. So none of you get excited. Loki-”  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Wipe that stupid smile off your face. I'm going back to the workshop. Ned, shouldn't you be home right now?”  
“Don't worry, I told May I'll stay here for the night, just in case.”  
“Could Ned sleep over?” Peter jolted.  
“I don't know…” Tony narrowed his eyes indecisively. “I'm not sure about Loki's babysitting skills.”  
“Dude, do we look like we need a babysitter?” Peter said and everyone looked at him.  
“Did you just call Tony _dude_?” Loki burst out laughing. Ned did the same and a few seconds later both of them were in tears. Tony laughed too.  
“It's Ned's fault, he's saying it all the time!” Peter tried to fight back, but the laughter was contagious and soon he was laughing with them. After that moment Ned was always welcomed in their home and that night they were reading comics until sunrise.


	8. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is out! Many thanks to @Vaguekiwi for BETA reading! ♥♥♥

Peter was still far away from accepting Sugarland as his home, but so far it had become a place where he learned to feel comfortable. The bad things became normal, almost invisible, and the good ones were shaping his life. He learned to share a mattress with the man he had a crush on, and knew a woman who acted as his mother. Also, he had a friend his age who loved the same things as he did, which was a very new thing for him, since his only friend had been Prior Stephen and that wasn't as fulfilling as having a real buddy who's not lecturing him all the time. Peter loved how every afternoon before ten o'clock somebody who lived at the end of the street played music from a window, and how he could smell someone else cooking lunch around noon.

Tony suddenly decided to spend all of his time on making a prosthetic for Ned and Peter was slightly worried about him. He wanted to know what was going on, but he still tried to keep his distance. He decided to talk about it with Loki, since he was the one creating a bridge between the two of them.  
“Have you ever seen him rest? I mean except for coming home in the evening and falling asleep like a log?” Peter asked him.  
“Nope. He's nonstop tied up. I think he just doesn't want to have time to think about things.” Loki shook his head and lit a cigarette.  
“Maybe we should try to make him feel more relaxed. Go out with him, I don't know.”  
“That could work. I've been trying to get him out for weeks, I'll try a little harder.”  
“Awesome.. I'm just really worried about him, you know. He must be very lonely and depressed.” Peter babbled on at the end, then blushed and held his head down.

  
Loki was silent for a moment, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You have a crush on him, don't you?”  
“Excuse me?” The boy fretted.  
“I just wanted to say that you should be careful,” Loki said, playing with a lighter between his fingers. “Tony's been through a lot. He's a tough guy. You have a gentle soul. Maybe too gentle for this world. I just don't want you to get hurt.”  
Peter had no idea what to say. This sudden thoughtfulness took him by surprise. He wanted to deny everything, but Loki was right, there was no other way than admitting everything. And probably have a mental breakdown during it.

  
“I don't think I should even talk about it. And I'm a monk. I made a vow to restrain myself from the pleasures of the flesh. And I'm failing that already.” he sobbed. “Tony is a man. My desires are beyond sinful, they're demonic. This is wrong and unnatural. I should burn in hell.”  
“There, there,” Loki patted his back way too strongly to be considered comforting. Peter nearly choked on his own snot. “You're not with those guys from The Monastery anymore, you can start a new life here and be whoever you want. Just like me. I don't give a shit about anything.”  
Peter chuckled as he was trying to wipe the tears out of his face, but there were too many. His face was red and glossy and he wanted to hide behind his hands. “B-but that's so easy to say for somebody who wasn't raised that way. When you do something that you were taught is wrong your whole life, you have to feel like garbage. It's like you were molded that way. It's in your brain, your heart, your conscience. Everywhere.”  
“I know what you mean. I've been through the same. I felt so bad doing all those things I love. The wrong things. My father could beat me all day for saying something inappropriate during breakfast. But you can break free. You just have to believe you're not the one who's wrong.”  
“But what about God?” Peter wept. “He sees everything, even my soul. He knows what I want and that it's wrong.”  
“And how do you know what God thinks?”  
“From the Bible of course! It's written right there in the sacred texts!”  
“Did God write the Bible?”  
“Of course he did!”  
“And you were there when he did?” Loki said with a smirk. Peter looked at him and his vision cleared.  
“Well, obviously not.” he mocked angrily. “It's three thousand years old.”  
“See, I don't think God wrote it, it was the people who did. None of us really know what he thinks. But shit, in a place like this where people cut each other's throats everyday, wouldn't he be happy if two people actually loved each other and wanted to make the world a better place? I don't think he really cares what their genders are as long as they're good people. What do you think?”  
“Ah… I don't know what to say…” Peter admitted. He needed a minute to think about everything. Loki hit his back once more.  
“Say thank you! Now get ready, I'll convince Tony to go out with us tonight.”

Peter had to apologize to Ned for not being able to spend time with him that evening, then he decided to make himself look a bit more presentable. He brushed his hair, washed himself with a sponge and even washed his ACDC shirt with the pre-war shampoo Loki gave him the other day. Then he put it on the open window to dry.

He wanted to look good, but he wasn't sure why. Well… for Tony of course, but at the same time he wanted to make that evening special. Back in The Monastery, every Sunday was special. Everyone wore their best clothes and had a great lunch after the mass. Peter realized that comparing a Sunday at The Monastery with a night in a pub was ludicrous but they hadn’t gone out in weeks and he wanted it to be perfect. Deep inside he knew everyone would probably get drunk right away and then the two men would have to drag Peter home, but he hoped that was just him just being sceptical.

When Loki and Tony came home, they went straight to the bar. Tony wore his sunglasses and looked truly uncomfortable. Almost as if he hoped the ground would swallow him any minute. Loki kept talking, spitting out jokes to break the ice, but it didn't seem to do anything. Peter hoped a few drinks would change the odd atmosphere.

“Cheers!” Loki grinned and the small glasses clinked against each other. It was their fourth shot. Peter knew he was getting drunk but luckily he followed Loki's advice to eat a lot of food before they went out, a full stomach was handling the alcohol better than the last time. But Tony looked like he was about to have a breakdown. He was holding his head desperately, he hadn't taken off his sunglasses and rarely spoke. Peter watched him occasionally and felt tormented. He wished for him to have fun, and enjoy himself just like everyone else did. But the longer the night went on the more he retreated into his shell.

Loki was with them until a strange girl patted his shoulder and he looked at her dazed.  
“Hey there, honey. Long time no see,” she smiled. “Can I buy you a drink?”  
“Sure thing!” He jolted. “Boys, have fun without me, I'll be back in a minute!”  
“He's not coming back,” Tony mumbled as they both watched Loki disappear in the crowd. “Let's finish our drinks and go home.”

When they arrived home, Tony took off his jacket, threw it to the corner and went to the kitchen to wash his face. Peter realized this was the first time they’d been alone together since the Monastery's garden. He didn't want Tony to fall asleep right away. He wanted to talk to him, at least a little bit. To show Tony he was on his side. He saw his reflection through the window glass and realized he was wearing the old ACDC t-shirt. When Tony returned, he knew what to do.  
“Tony, would you show me ACDC?” he asked. “You promised, don't you remember?”  
“Oh…” Tony looked like he was about to say no. Peter wouldn't have been surprised, he seemed exhausted. Maybe he should let him rest. But Tony's face melted a bit. “Alright, I'll play the radio.”

The radio was a dusty little box with a black screen. When Tony pressed the only button that was on it, it lit up with blue light. Amazed, Peter watched over his shoulder; Tony’s fingers quickly tapped the screen and colourful pictures shuffled in front of them.  
“It's in old english,” Peter gasped.  
“Yeah, it's from the Blue age,” Tony nodded. “Anyway, I'm trying to find a station that plays pre-war rock music. Just give me a second.”  
Peter sat down on their mattress and a moment later music started playing. It was nothing like he’d ever heard before. It was loud, energetic and thrilling. Peter fell in love with the melody right away.  
“What is this?” he laughed, watching Tony shaking his head to the beat.  
“ACDC, the same boys whose name you have on your shirt. This is hard rock, baby!” Tony shouted and began dancing.  
“Tony, are you having a seizure or are you actually trying to dance?” Peter got on his feet and joined him.  
“How dare you! You're the one who dances like he just got every bone in his body broken.” joked Tony, and tried to nudge him. Peter yelped and tried to run away but Tony was faster, grabbed him by his hand, pulled him closer and imprisoned him in his tight hug. Peter lost his breath not only from Tony's force, but also from the sudden closeness. Tony's face was at the reach of his lips and all Peter had to do was lean a little bit closer and they'd meet.

They stared at each other for a second, wondering what the other one was going to do.  
“Do you mind?” he asked calmly and Peter blushed.  
“I-I've never done this before,” he croaked, but in the next second he'd prefer to cut his tongue off rather than admit what he just had. He was frightened, but excited at the same time. He prayed not to get an erection, but they were so close, their chests were pressed at each other and Peter could feel Tony's heartbeat.  
A second later Tony burst out laughing. He let Peter go and kept laughing, while Peter drowned in shame. Tony laughed so hard, he couldn't catch a breath. Peter turned to stop the music, but unfortunately he pressed something else and instead of music, a woman's voice came from the speakers.  
“...we're offering safety, food and water, to whoever needs it…”  
“Wait, turn that off!” His laugh stopped right away.  
“...follow the Pole star to the Iron Tower…”  
“TURN IT THE FUCK OFF!”  
“I DON'T KNOW HOW!” Peter screamed back, haggling with the radio.  
“...join us and we can all build a better world...“  
“Give it to me!” Tony pushed him away and a second later the room was silent again.

Peter was on the floor, looking up at Tony, terrified he was going to scream at him, but Tony fell on the floor right next to him, looking devastated.  
“Tony?” Peter spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“There's nothing to say. It's just… something I wasn't ready for. Sorry about that.”  
“Who was she?” Peter moved closer to him.  
Tony sighed. “My wife.”  
Peter felt his stomach drop at the same time as his jawline. “Your-”  
“She's dead,” Tony went on, but his voice was thin and trembling,”I lost her two years ago. Me and her… we were so tired of living in this world, so we decided to create a new world, a world similar to the one that existed before the war. And we were pretty good at it. We created a place the size of Sugarland and called it The Iron Tower. It had everything. Water, food, safety. It was a paradise. She was taking care of the people and I was experimenting with technology from the Blue age. I wanted us to be better, but in the end I took things way too far. Just like I always do.”  
“What happened?” Peter asked.  
“I started creating weapons. Mainly to protect us, but then I decided to experiment with nuclear power and I created some monsters. I was so proud of myself. I had too much power. And some of our people decided they wanted it for themselves. God I was so blind from it I couldn't see what was coming. Eventually, I was betrayed. When I figured everything out, it was too late. They caught us and took her life. I escaped and became a wanted man. Ever since then I’ve been hiding, trying to survive. It's been years since The Iron Tower. But they're still after me. Because I still have the key to everything. To the things I created.”  
“So that's why the Iron Clan is after you? They want access to the weapons you created?”  
“The Iron Clan is an army of mindless hooligans who were hired to hunt me. They leave a slaughter behind themselves, because that's what they're paid for. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. The real puppeteers are like wolves, sniffing me out. I had to get here. To Sugarland. It's a place with a lot of wanted people, and it's easy to hide here. I'm selling my ideas for a piece of bread. I have to be good, but not too good, to raise suspicion. Luckily, it's not that hard, anything that's slightly more effective than a cudgel is a fucking NASA relic to these people. But it won't last forever. I know they'll find me...”  
“Tony…” Peter put his hand on his shoulder.  
The man looked into his eyes, tearing up. “I'm so sorry for what I did to you, to your people. I wanted to run, I promise. I'd never wanted anyone to suffer for me. I know the only way to stop this, is to take my life. But I just can't. I'm a coward. I've always been.”  
“No!” Peter hugged him. “Don't say those things! Never again! We're in this together and we'll find a way!”  
“I can't let you be part of it. You have your life ahead of you, your shield is clean and you can start again any time you want. We live in awful times. But Loki is right, when he says you can do whatever you want. Once you leave this flat you can be whoever you choose. I can't do that. My past is way bigger than me, unfortunately. It's the burden of us visionaries.”  
“That's bullshit, anyone can start again!” Peter argued and Tony laughed in his arms.  
“I'm sorry, it's just so weird when you swear and say things like dude.”  
“But I'm serious-”  
Tony stopped him. “We should go to bed. It's late. You have to let my old bones get some rest. We'll talk another time.”

Peter listened to Tony's snoring for most of the night, while he was staring at the ceiling. Listening to Tony's story about his past was devastating. He wished he could do anything to help him, but at the same time he knew Tony wouldn't approve any of it. Tony had to stop seeing him as the little child he hurt. Peter needs to redeem himself, as an equal. But how can they be equal, when one of them is a simple boy, and the other an experienced genius? He needs to start working on himself.

Loki got home at dawn as usual, he peeked into their room and his eyes met with Peter's.  
“How was the date?” he mouthed, Peter simply answered with a cutthroat gesture. Loki shrouded in disappointment and disappeared behind a wall. But Peter didn’t feel too bad. At least someone was on his side.


	9. Standing on my own

“You know, I could teach you how to read,” Peter said this suddenly, as he was sitting with Ned in their colourful tent, reading comics and drinking tea.  
“Wait, really?” Ned asked with a spark of interest in his eyes.  
Peter nodded. “Sure. You could be reading comics without me. I've never actually taught anyone anything, but I bet it can't be so difficult. Also, I noticed you're already recognizing some letters, so you're off to a good start.”  
“Let's start right now! Do you need anything specific?”  
Peter looked around, thinking. “Well brother Phillip had this large black board… that helped me a lot. And you're going to need something for taking notes. Maybe we could look around and see what we can find.”  
  
They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around, trying to find supplies they could use. Ned found an old car hood, and Peter realized that with a piece of coal from the fireplaces they could write on it. Later, they found a small old chair and with a piece of wood they thought they could use to make a table so Ned would have something to sit by. Just the planning was quite thrilling. Peter had a lot of fun. But the moment they placed the car hood and Ned sat behind his table, a group of random children showed up to their little class.  
“What are you guys building?” One of them asked.  
“None of your concern, now get the hell outta here.” Ned waved his hands as if he was trying to get rid of some annoying insect.  
“Are you going to play some kind of a game?” Another child spoke.  
“No.”  
“Yes!” Peter said. “Find as many books as you can! That's what it's called.”  
“That sounds weird.” The children laughed.  
“It kinda does.” Ned admitted.  
“If you find any, I'll teach you how to read it!” Peter declared. “Bring as many as you can. Newspapers or magazines are fine too! Anything with text on it.”  
Children looked at each other in confusion and then went to do what he asked them to.  
Ned turned at Peter. “You shouldn't trust them. Lots of the Sugarland folk are paying orphans to snitch on others.”  
“We're not doing anything bad. And if they bring any books, it's for the better. It shouldn't be so difficult. I bet books have no price out here.”  
  
He was right. The children brought books they found propping up furniture or lying on the street. All sorts of literature, from the Bible to picture books for children. Peter was very excited. He missed reading. The Monastery had a library, most of the books were bought from traveling merchants. They were very precious, and not everyone was allowed to get inside the library, but since Peter had to clean there, he smuggled a few books into his room and read them during the night. He always returned them a few days later and no one noticed anything. It was his dirty little secret in the world of constant discipline and hard work.

Peter wasn't expecting the children to stay interested in his class for a very long time, but surprisingly they seemed to like it. A month passed and they made good progress. Of course, Ned was his top student. He learned so fast he could already read comics on his own. He still struggled with longer books and more complicated words, but otherwise, he was a natural. The small children needed more patience and attention, but the results were much more rewarding. 

Also, Peters' class grew. Ned had to be promoted to assistant teacher and help out with the newcomers. Some of them stayed for twenty minutes, others didn't want to leave. At the end of every class, Peter and Ned sat next to the board and talked about the day. They were exhausted, but happy. One day Peter was surprised to see the sun already going down - he had to go home soon.  
“Can I come with you tonight?” Ned asked. “I'm in the middle of The Catcher in the Rye and I hate it when I can't get past a word.”  
“Sure, why not.”  
  
As they walked, Peter looked up at the lilac sky and realized it was his birthday. Today he was sixteen. In The Monastery he'd be promoted to a monk. It was weird to reflect on how much he had desired this position. It would mean he was an adult. Suddenly he felt melancholic, but at the same time, he couldn't be more proud of the progress he had made in Sugarland. It made him who he was. He didn't tell Ned it was his birthday. He wasn't sure if people in Sugarland kept track of their age.  
  
When they entered their flat, both of them immediately knew something was going on. Tony and Loki were in the kitchen standing by the table, talking about something with serious voices. The boys walked right in.  
“Hey guys!” Peter greeted them. They turned and Peter saw a metal prosthetic on the table. Ned gasped.  
“You're kidding!”  
“Is that-”  
“It was meant to be a surprise,” Tony tried to explain but Ned already had his fingers on the shiny new arm.  
“It's beautiful,” he breathed with sparkling eyes. Tony helped him put it on and tightened all the leather straps around his chest. It was a complex piece, custom made just for Ned.  
“It will take you some time to get used to it, but after that I think you'll be very satisfied. Whenever you need any repairs or customization just let me know.” Tony said.  
“Wow… just wow…” Ned whispered, still absolutely stunned. “I don't know how to thank you.”  
“This calls for a celebration!” Loki took a bottle with clear liquid out of his bag and poured a generous shot in each of them. They spent the rest of the evening together. Loki and Ned made dinner and Peter talked to Tony. He was restrained in conversation, as he usually was, but he smiled much more than before. Peter saw validation and tenderness in the man’s eyes and started to think maybe Tony enjoyed his company. 

“Alright, bed time. I have to get up early tomorrow,” Loki said all of a sudden. It was around two in the morning and the time was passing slowly. He grabbed his empty glass, got up, and put it in the kitchen sink. Ned yawned.  
“I'm going to sleep too. Night, guys,” he waved at them and walked to the next room. He shut the doors behind him and Peter with Tony were on their own. Tony was looking at his glass, circling it gently, watching the drink swirl. Music was still playing, only very softly. 

Peter was tired and not in the mood for talking. He was still feeling the shots he had. He wasn't drunk, just relaxed. Tony seemed to be on the same page. So they sat together in silence, moving their feet to the striking rhythm. Time slowed even more, until it seemed to stop completely. Peter looked at Tony and realized he had never taken a proper look at him.  
  
Tony was a truly handsome man. He had a great figure - broad shoulders, thin waist, arms packed with muscle. His skin was bronze from the sun and the tanktop he was wearing all the time looked great on him. He took care of his looks. Every month he cut his hair, just to keep it under control. And ever since they came to Sugarland, he started shaving his silver beard, keeping it short and mostly around his mouth. His face, oh god, his face was stunning. A perfect narrow nose, beautifully carved lips, dark sweet eyes. Peter remembered that in The Monastery he saw him naked, but at that time, Tony was a dying man, there was nothing erotic about it. But now he was glowing with health, seeing him naked would be like seeing a completely different person. Just the thought of it made his blood boil.

“Do you want another drink?” Tony asked suddenly. Peter stopped staring at his arms and shook his head.  
“No I'm good, thanks.”  
“By the way… Loki told me about your little project.”  
Peter froze in fear, but to his surprise Tony was smiling.  
“I think it's a great idea. And you were right. I can't keep you in here forever. Someone your age… I'm sorry, how old are you?”  
“Sixteen. Since yesterday actually.”  
“Wait really? Why didn't you say anything?”  
“I wasn't sure if people here celebrate birthdays or not,” he explained. “Also you just gave Ned his new arm and I didn't want to… you know. It was just his moment.”  
“No, I understand,” Tony nodded. “That was very thoughtful of you.”  
“Anyone would do that.” Peter stated and Tony chuckled.  
“Perhaps. How did you celebrate your birthday in The Monastery?”  
It was a simple question, but Peter had to think for a second. “Well it would all start in the morning. Father Stephen always brought me breakfast with fruits and prickly pear juice. Then he'd give me a present, something small but nice. He'd shake my hand, and say “happy birthday to you, dear Peter” and then the day would be the same as any other until the evening, where we would all have a small party. We'd drink wine and dance to the music. And that's pretty much it.”  
“That sounds very sweet.” Tony admitted. “Honestly I don't have anything to give you, but I guess I could start with this.” He offered Peter a handshake and Peter accepted it.  
“Happy birthday to you, dear Peter,” he said with a serious face. “I wish you all the best in the world and I hope the next years of your life will be the best you've ever had. You have your life ahead of you and you should make every minute count.”  
“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me,” Peter smiled and waited until Tony released the grip. His skin was warm and rough, but nice to touch at the same time. After Tony let go, his hand felt miserably cold and lonely. Almost as if Tony's body was a part of him he’d been missing this whole time.  
“Come here,” Tony reached for him and Peter fell into his embrace. They held each other for a while, but that moment felt like an eternity. Tony's body was hot yet inviting. Peter realized it felt like home. Kind, genuine, welcoming. He wished he could fall asleep like this.  
“Peter, remember what we talked about the other day?” Tony said suddenly. “About my past?”  
“Yeah?” Peter lifted his head and looked into his troubled eyes.  
“I just wanted to say thank you. It made me feel much better. I pray that one day you'll be willing to forgive me.”  
“Tony-”  
“I know what you want to say. But believe me when I say that you're still very young. One day you'll truly realize what you've lost. Then you'll be ready to forgive me. And if you don’t, then that's fine too. Some things are not worth forgiving.”

  
After that they went to bed, Tony fell asleep right away and Peter laid on his stomach, staring at Tony's body, outlined by pale moonlight. Tony was so close, and his body smelled really nice. Peter moved closer, until his nose nearly touched Tony’s hair. He wished he could touch him, embrace him and let their bodies become one. It was an odd thought, but it made him realize how crazy he was about this man. _Tony, sweet Tony, could you ever love me?_


	10. Family

“Any progress with Tony?” Loki asked Peter as they sat on the street by a small round table, enjoying a cup of coffee. They were in a wealthier part of the city, where people seemed more civilized. Not everyone was allowed to get inside, but Loki had the skin of a chameleon and thanks to his contacts he had many doors open in Sugarland.  
Peter shook his head in disappointment. He was used to Loki constantly asking him about their relationship, so he didn't feel embarrassed anymore. “Nothing's changed. He talks a bit more than before, but he's still convinced he's the worst person on Earth and that he ruined my life.”  
“Hmm…” Loki stared at a small slightly chipped cup in his hand. “And what about you? How do you feel?”  
That question took Peter by surprise. “I don't know. Better than a few months ago, that's for sure. I'm trying to keep myself busy and it's helping. Sometimes it's harder, my mind doesn't want to do anything except lie in bed all day, but after I force myself to get up, things get easier.”  
“So you're basically trying Tony's medicine,” Loki pointed out. Peter laughed bitterly.  
“At least Tony’s not running away from me, like he used to.” The boy sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  
“Hey, maybe you should try doing that more often!” The thin man smirked.  
“Do what?”  
“What you just did with your hair.”  
“I didn't do anything, my hair just got too long. I have to get a trim.”  
“You're quite good-looking, you know that? And Tony won't say no to a handsome laddie like you. Maybe you should work on your charms.” Loki pointed at a group of young girls sweeping the street. Until that moment all of them were staring at him, once they caught him looking they suddenly acted very busy.  
Peter tried tactfully to ignore them. “How do you know that Tony likes men?”  
“Everyone knows that,” Loki giggled. “He's just the type of guy who likes everyone. Especially good-looking people… I should tell you about the time we met in Asgard. We went to this party together and-” Loki wanted to say finnish his story, but his eyes caught something behind Peter's head and he froze in fear. The longer he stared, the paler his face became.  
“Loki, what's going on?” Peter turned around and saw a group of people coming towards them. They all looked enormous. All of them tall and beautiful, wearing colorful clothes. The one in the middle was the tallest. His shoulders were covered in a red velvet cape and his long blonde hair was decorated with braids and silver beads. He was incredibly handsome.  
“Loki…?” Peter turned back to his friend and saw him trying to hide under the tiny table. “Loki, are we in danger?”  
“Extreme danger,” he nearly whispered.

“BROTHER!” The tall blonde man shouted and ran towards them. Loki watched him with horror, then he got on his feet clumsily and brushed the dust off his clothes. He straightened his back, trying to look casual, until the strange man got to their table. Suddenly looked small and terrified, like a little bird.  
“Loki, who would've thought I’d find you in this place! Oh, what a day! What a beautiful day! How many years have passed since the last time we saw each other? Three, if I'm generous!” The blonde man's voice was as loud as a thunder. People began peeking out of their windows, trying to see who was making such a racket.  
“Brother,” Loki said emotionlessly, trying to shake his sibling’s hand, but the blonde man burst out laughing, pushed his pale hand away and grabbed him into a tight hug. Loki nearly choked, his eyes opened wide in absolute shock and the tips of his shoes couldn't reach the ground. Peter got on his feet, panicking. But before he could scream for help, Loki was back on his feet. His face was suddenly bright red and he looked like a fish out of water.  
Then the man turned to Peter and blinded him with his smile.  
“And who are you, boy?”  
“I'm Peter, just Peter-” he stuttered, but the man grabbed him too and pinned him to his huge chest.  
“Any friend of my brother is a friend of mine! I'm Thor, but I'm sure you've already guessed that, Loki must have told you about me!”

Peter stared at him amazed. They looked nothing alike. Loki was thin, with pale skin, black hair and high cheek-bones, and Thor was muscular and masculine, with a strong jawline, blonde hair, and a pair of baby blue eyes, decorated with long dreamy eyelashes. Like sand and water. The first explanation that came to Peter’s mind was that they must be half-brothers. Then he thought the word “brother” could mean something different in Asgard. But Thor truly was acting like someone who had just found his brother after years of searching.

Thor introduced them to everyone. His people had sparkling smiles, long healthy hair, beautiful clothes and lots of jewelry. They looked like demi-gods to Peter, it was disorienting after all the time he’d spent with people burdened by misery and poverty. He felt very small next to these people, with his messy hair, dirty old ACDC shirt and sneakers that used to be white. But Thor was so happy, he couldn't care less about Peter’s looks. The only thing he laughed at was Loki's cowboy hat, which Peter had to agree with.

The Asgardians convinced Peter and Loki to visit their rented house and have dinner with them. Thor said they had things they needed to discuss with Loki. He agreed, but mainly because he was still shocked. Peter knew he wasn't on good terms with his father, but why was so terrified of this brother who seemed to be so happy he finally found him? Something was definitely going on.  
  
The Asgardians’ house was a real mansion. At least compared to the tiny apartment Peter and Loki were living in. It had a small garden, plenty of rooms, and a beautiful bathroom. Thor said they rented it, because they had to do some business in the city and had to stay there for a few weeks. It sparkled with cleanliness, big and light and open with its white walls and wide windows. Peter suddenly saw The Monastery in front of him and it felt like he was trying to remember a dream he just had, it kept fading away like a morning mist.

“So you're doing business in Sugarland? With thieves and godfathers?” Loki spoke after about an hour of sitting in Thor's living room, next to his friends. His silence made Peter anxious and as he spoke, he felt his stomach drop, knowing something ugly was about to happen.  
“My dear brother, Sugarland is the best place for trade and you know that better than me. The times are hard and we have to provide for our people. Sometimes we all have to lower our standards, to do something good.” Thor explained this calmly with his powerful deep voice.  
“That's new,” Loki went on, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. “I wonder what happened, that father allowed his saint son to _lower his standards_.”  
Thor and the others went silent, looking at him. Then Thor straightened his back, and his eyes darkened. He looked like a person who had to tell bad news against his will.

“No.” Loki whispered.  
“I thought you knew,” Thor explained with grief in this voice. “You've always known what was going on before anyone else, so I thought… I wanted us to talk about it privately.”  
Loki lowered his head and covered his face with his hands. “How did it happen?”  
“He died in his sleep. It took us all by surprise. We gave him a proper ship burial. He was sent to the sea and lit on fire under the stars.”  
No one spoke for a while. All of the Asgardians seemed to be heartbroken from this memory. Loki suddenly lifted his head with bitterness in his eyes.  
“So that makes you the king of Asgard.”  
“Loki…” Thor begged, but his brother was already on his feet.  
“I'm happy for you. I really am. You've earned this, by being the good one, the one who's always on his side. But I won't bow to you, no matter what. I know that closes the gates of Asgard to me forever, but I don't care. It's your kingdom now. Goodbye, brother.”  
“Please, you've misunderstood…”  
“Peter?” Loki put his cowboy hat on his black head and they both left the house.

  
  
Loki walked so furiously, Peter had to nearly run just to catch up with him. He wanted to talk to him, but Loki didn't give him a chance. It was an odd experience. Almost as if Loki's facade was peeled off right in front of him. The hustler and joker were gone, exposing his vulnerable core.

He turned at a random corner and sat on a lonely staircase leading to the door of somebody's house. Peter walked up to him carefully and watched his green eyes water. The man was trying so hard not to burst into tears, it was devastating to watch.  
“It's nothing,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his long fingers. “Just a shock. Completely normal reaction.”  
“Are you alright?” Peter asked him softly and Loki looked into his eyes with raw grief and pain.  
“I wanted him to die. I begged all the gods for it. Be careful what you wish for, huh?” Tears were already running down his face. Then his body curved into a ball as sorrow bent it, and he wept. Peter sat down next to him in silence. He put his head on Loki’s shoulder and his hands around his waist and waited with him, until he had no tears left to cry.  
  
In the weeks after that, Loki didn't want to bring up the topic of his father anymore. Suddenly he was the dark one in their group. Hiding behind his pilot sunglasses and the brim of his cowboy hat. Every time they walked somewhere together, he was right behind them, not paying attention to their conversation, always lost in thoughts. Peter remembered what he told him about his father, how badly he used to treat him. Even a cruel father is still a father, and Loki's tears were justified. 

  
Peter wished he was smarter, more educated, so he could help Loki. Every time he had been lost, Prior Stephen told him to pray and find his way in the Bible. He taught him how to read between the lines, think and apply its message to everyday life.  
“The book is three thousand years old and yet it's still valuable,” he used to tell Peter. “Civilizations rise and fall, but men and their hearts are still the same.”  
Peter had never truly liked The Holy Book. He knew every evangelium, every verse, but it was more like a song or a poem he learned as a child and kept repeating to make the adults happy so they'd let him be part of the club. But now he wished he could read it again, properly, with eyes wide open, just like Prior taught him. He suddenly felt different, more mature and ready to learn more, so he could teach others better. It made him wonder though - was he ready to open his heart to God again? He still couldn't answer the question, but it kept appearing in his mind.  
  
With these thoughts he walked to see his friend Ned. It was around eight oclock in the evening. He wanted to spend some time with him, since Loki and Tony had a busy evening and he wanted to be with Ned some other time than in the classroom. When he arrived at the tent, he met May, who told him Ned went to get some books from the classroom. Then she wouldn’t let Peter go after him until he had tried her dried camel meat. He was still chewing it as he was approaching their classroom, when he heard people shouting. He recognized Ned's voice and quickly followed it.  
  
There were many people in the classroom and most of them were strange men. Some of them had dark ripped clothes, others were nearly naked. All of them were grabbing the books, formed into tall columns and throwing them on a pile, right next to a fire, while Ned and one of their students, a bright blonde girl, were desperately trying to stop them.

“Peter! Help!” Ned screamed, as he saw him running towards them.  
“What's going on?”  
“They want to burn the books!” His friend explained.  
“Why?”

He didn't get an answer, because one little blonde girl grabbed a stranger’s hand and tried to pry the book out of his grip. In the very last second, Ned pushed her away and got hit in the face instead of her. It was a big whack, Ned's skin split under the pressure and blood started flowing.  
“No! Stop it!” Peter yelled and, not sure what he was doing, he jumped on the man and tumbled with him to the ground. They wrestled for a moment in a ball of sweaty limbs and dust, trying to get one off the other, until the strange man put his hand on Peter's face, trying to push him away. The boy hated his nasty fingers with long dark nails so much, he instinctively punched him in the eye. The hit was quite powerful and it took them both by surprise.  
“So you want to fight like a man?” The stranger growled with his eye socket starting to swell. His friends grabbed Peter from behind and forced him to get up on his feet. They formed a small circle and made them stand up against each other.

“I don't want to fight,” Peter stated with a trembling voice. “Please just leave my friends alone.”  
“You already punched me, kid, you’re the one looking for a fight!” the man pointed at his eye. “You know what? Fight me properly and the one who wins gets what he wants. I want your friend's pretty arm and you want your books!”  
“No, please, let's sort this out in peace!” the boy begged. The strangers laughed at his innocent stubbornness and somebody behind him pushed him closer to his opponent.  
“How about if I win I'll take your little girlfriend too?” the man grinned and Peter turned at the blonde girl who was sitting right next to Ned, supporting his head and wiping blood off his face. She exchanged an equally terrified look with him. She was a little girl, not more than eleven years old. 

Peter felt a shiver run down his spine. He wanted to shout at her to run away, but the man was already lunging toward him. Peter was quicker and the stranger missed. He tried a few more times and he missed every time. Peter didn't want to hit him back. For a few seconds he hoped the man would get tired soon and leave them alone, but his opponent just looked angrier. Peter quickly realised his wait-it-out tactic wasn’t going to work.  
  
The last time Peter had fought someone, he’d been six. He was a ruthless fighter, he couldn’t care less how many times he got punched, he always punched back, and kicked and bit. The Monastery children had to attack in groups, but a lot of them left the skirmish bleeding. Nothing mattered to Peter, only survival. It was Prior Stephen who gave him manners, ideas and gentleness. Why survive, when you can live? So Peter had abandoned these feral needs years ago and he wasn't sure if he could remember them in this crucial moment. But he decided to try. If not for him, then for his friends. He knew the beast was still there, he just had to wake it up. After all, he was a Spider.


	11. Fight

Blood is repulsive. It's hot and thick and gets sticky as it dries. Peter hated how it ran down from his nose to his mouth. He kept spitting it out, leaving dark wet spots on the dirt underneath him, but it's metallic taste was already ingrained in his gums. He didn't have time to care about that. He just struck his opponent back and now it was their blood that squirted onto the ground.   
  
The fight was about to end soon, since they both were on the edge of their stamina, but Peter couldn't believe he had made it this far. His knuckles were stripped of his skin, he had been hit numerous times, but he felt no pain. His body was pumped with adrenaline and he remembered what it was like, when he fought his peers from the Monastery. At some moments he felt like he could shred his enemy with his teeth, that's how determined he was to protect his friends.

Their audience, though, got bored. They cheered and screamed at first, but now they were moving on their feet, with their arms crossed. The boy turned out to be quite a competent fighter, but the fight was taking too long, the punches were slower and the fighters clumsier.   
  
One of the other men decided to act. He threw a knife into the ring and shouted his friend's name.   


“Finish it!” Another one shouted.

Peter saw the blade fall right between them. He knew that if his enemy got to it first, he would be done for good. He jumped at it, but the other man was faster. He grabbed the weapon, raised his hand in a victorious gesture and for a short moment Peter imagined it falling right between his eyes, splitting his face in half. None of that happened, since the man got hit in the temple with a small stone. His eyes widened, mouth opened and he froze in the middle of the horrendous act. A carmine stream ran down to his chin and he staggered like a defeated Goliath, a heavy moan slipping out of his lips. Then he dropped face down to the ground, like a sack of potatoes.

Everyone stared at his unconscious body in absolute shock. No one moved a finger.  
“You wanted to finish it, so I did!” a high voice shouted and everyone looked up. On the nearest roof stood the little blonde girl with her homemade slingshot. She stood with pride and ferocity in her brown eyes, looking at the crowd under her with disgust. 

The surprise didn't last for long. The thugs woke up from their daydream and a few ran after her, but she was already too far, running across the roofs, rusted sheet metal ringing under her small feet. The others took their anger out on Peter and Ned. The boys had never been beaten this badly before. The only thing they were capable of was covering their faces, protecting them from the kicks. Peter saw them turn Ned on his stomach and yank off his prosthetic. He looked so degraded and upset, his face red from humiliation. Peter only watched as he too was helpless. 

He had no idea what to do. He was in deep shit, that was for sure. Tony, who had complimented him on how well he’d been doing, probably wouldn’t let him go out for the rest of his life and May would never say another word to him.

  
“C'mon,” Peter said to his friend, trying to sound calming, after the hooligans left them lying on the ground. Ned was shivering, his face was covered in blood. Peter felt his stomach drop as he saw him. He knew this was his own doing. He had started the reading class, he had brought Ned to their apartment and introduced him to Tony. His mind was screaming at him to run away and never look back, but he couldn't do that. He was responsible for his friend and for his class, so he did the only thing he could. He took Ned home. 

May was in front of their tent, working on one of her shawls. She looked happy and carefree. A moment ago, Peter had shared this beautiful feeling with her, but now he was about to ruin everything. She lifted her head and instinctively smiled, but then her smile changed into absolute horror. Her petite hands dropped everything and she ran towards them.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” She panicked as she reached them. MJ ran out of the tent too. Without a word, she helped Peter support Ned and bring him inside, where they placed him on  the pile of blankets where he usually slept . May started crying but even in such a state she managed to pour a bit of water into a bucket and used it to clean Ned's face. Peter was lying next to him, but he was more conscious, so he could care for his own wounds. 

  
“...and after that they beat us and took Ned's arm. I don't know their names, or which clan they belonged to. They were just random people who wanted to harm us.” Peter explained quietly to the two women. Ned was sleeping and May still sat next to him, responding to each of his painful moans. MJ was standing above them, with her arms crossed on her chest and flames bursting out of her eyes. She had been silent since the moment they got inside the tent, but Peter knew it wouldn’t last much longer.

“You boys are lucky we heal faster. An ordinary person probably wouldn't be able to make it.” May said softly, running through Neds sweaty hair with her fingers lovingly. “Next time you have to be more careful. Books are less important than lives.”  
“We were only protecting what we built,” Peter argued. He knew that wasn't a time or a place for such debate, but he couldn't just let it go. “Ned and I worked so hard these past few months, were we supposed to just step away the moment some arrogant asshole decided to ruin it?”  
“It's okay, honey-”

“Look at you, so brave all of a sudden!” MJ said coldly and turned at May in fury. “See, this is what I've been warning you about! We can't just let strangers in for no reason. It's too dangerous! Next time, all of us could get hurt, or even killed!”  
Peter's heart twitched painfully as she said that. “I was just trying to help…”  
“Yeah, right,” she shook her head irritatedly. “As if it wasn't enough that your friend made that metal hand for him. That kind of fancy stuff drags attention no one is asking for. Also those classes. It was just a question of time, before someone decided to steal everything or, in your case, burn it to the ground. But you can't know that, you're not from here and as much as May wants it - you're not one of us. We were better off without you.”  
Peter couldn't look at MJ or May at that moment. His vision started to blur and the only thing he was capable of was walking out of the tent in a rush, not even saying goodbye. 

What were his bruises and injuries compared to this? The heart in his chest hurt like someone had just pierced it with a spear. Peter felt guilty, worthless, and most of all stupid. How come he couldn't have seen something like this happening the moment they came up with the idea? He lived in such a merciless world and yet couldn't realize he was putting his best friend in danger? At that very moment, Peter hated himself more than anyone, even more than the men who ambushed them and robbed them of more than just a metal arm. 

When Peter got home, he was exhausted. He sat down in the kitchen and covered his face with his hands. He felt so unspeakably heartbroken, his body trembled.

Somebody entered the apartment loudly. Just from hearing the person's footsteps, he could tell it was Tony. Peter wasn't sure how to act. If he should tell the truth or keep it holed up inside. Tony took off his pants, as he did every evening, and threw them in the nearest corner like some careless teenager. Then he walked into the kitchen simply in his underwear.

“Hey there,“ he said, when their eyes met. “Why don't you turn the lights on?“

“I prefer it this way.“ That was the first answer that came to mind. Peter was partly being honest, there was a pretty purple neon light coming in from the street.

“It definitely has it's magic,“ Tony admitted, looking at the ceiling where the dreamy light was the strongest, and then he turned to wash his face in a bucket. Peter heard splashing water and Tony moaning with relief as his body cooled down. Then he patted his face with a towel.

“How was your day?“ He asked casually. At that moment, he was so distant that Peter felt like Tony didn't deserve to be dragged into his shit. But Tony was stronger than him. And Peter wanted to talk.

“Well,“ the boy began slowly.

“Well?“

“Something happened.“ Peted confessed. His head was about to explode. He couldn't hold his tears back anymore, and sniffed loudly.

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?“ Tony all of a sudden threw away the towel in his hands and ran to him. Peter watched him kneel down like a knight and looked into his face with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. The man noticed the wounds on Peter's face and all the muscles under his skin tightened with rage. 

“Please, don't be mad,“ Peter said between sobs. “B-but do you remember the prosthetic you made for Ned?“   
Tony nodded, respectfully silent.

“Well, today somebody stole it from him. And we got beat up, pretty badly too. And… and…“

“Tell me.“ Tony said patiently and Peter realized he'd never seen him this soft before. This gentleness touched his wounded heart even more. He kept crying like a newborn, deeply embarrassed, but Tony didn't seem to care about his tears. He told him everything. How he fought and how they stripped the hand off his best friend's body.

“After that happened, MJ said that it was my fault and that I made their lives harder. Oh, what should I do, Tony? I only wanted to help!“

“Now you listen to me,“ Tony said strictly, holding his hand. “You did the right thing when you helped them. It was a good deed and it still is. It's not yours or anybody's fault, that something this bad happened. Sometimes, when you want to do the best for people around you, and things go wrong, they'll always point at you and say it's your fault, because in the end you're the only one who actually did something to improve the world around you. You're responsible. In a world like this, when you put your face on something, you have to be ready for somebody to eventually spit on it. Do you understand me?“

“Y-yeah,“ Peter shook his head and wiped off his tears with a sleeve. “Thank you. You must have been through this so many times...“

“Kind of...“ Tony's earnest face got veiled with sadness for a moment. Peter wanted to touch him. Take his head in his hands and raise it towards him.  _ Don't be sad, Tony. It breaks my heart. _

“Don't worry about me.“ Tony shook his head. “And don't worry about them either. Even when it hurts. I know that feeling. Do not let it put you down. Always keep your head up and never give up. You fought well and did as much as you could to protect your friends. Never apologize for that.“ He smiled and his eyes sparkled in the soft light. Peter looked at him, tears on his face already drying and couldn't get rid of the idea to kiss him. He swallowed loudly and kept gazing at his lips.

“If not for them, then for me, please,“ Tony added, and pressed his hand tightly.

“Tony,“ Peter whispered and leaned towards him, with his eyes closed. The man retreated immediately. He leaned just a few inches back, so Peter's lips couldn't reach him and Peter felt his breath brushing against his face. Neither of them moved for a second, then Tony got up on his feet quickly.

“Pete,“ he moaned, suddenly back to himself, turning his back at him and rubbing his eyes.

“I-I'm sorry,“ Peter stood up as well, reaching for him. “It just happened.“

“I can't have this right now.“ Tony said, crossing his forehead with his fingers, massaging the wrinkly skin. “I just can't.“

“Tony, I'm sorry,“ Peter touched his shoulder. “I didn't mean to-“

All of sudden Tony turned with the quickness of a tiger, grabbed Peter by the waist and pressed the boy to himself. Peter gasped, feeling Tony's hot crotch against his. Tony leaned towards him, with his lips parted. Peter stared at him panting, scared and excited at the same time, eager to see what would happen. Tony was so close, they were nearly kissing.

“Tony, please,“ Peter begged for Tony to make the first step. After all this time, all of these attempts, the heat was unbearable. His own dick was already harder than a diamond, twitching in his pants, begging for relief. A simple touch would be enough, but he couldn't move. So close. So tight.

“Anybody home?“ 

When Loki entered the apartment a moment later, he found Tony and Peter in a dark room, each one of them in a different corner.  
“Hey buddy, you're home early,” Tony patted his shoulder heavily with an empty smile and left the room. Peter was staring out of the window, he didn’t even bother to say hi.


	12. Red

Two weeks after the attack on Ned and Peter, Peter got an unexpected invitation from Thor to his birthday party. Tony and Loki were invited, too. It was the first time in fourteen days all three of them said more than two sentences to each other.

The atmosphere in their apartment felt slow, sometimes heavy and tiring. When Peter's and Tony's eyes met, Peter could feel how intense that quick look was. But Tony usually left the room right after and gave him no time to say anything. Peter wanted to resolve the whole thing. He wanted to ask Tony about it, to talk to him openly. He had done it before and succeeded, so why was it such a big deal right now? 

But unfortunately, he lacked energy and was in a lot of pain. His body had healed ages ago, but his heart didn't. Not yet. He couldn't stop thinking about the classroom he had left in ruins. He kept thinking about his pupils, imagining them walking into the classroom, ready to learn, but finding it abandoned. Peter wondered if maybe he wasn't meant to be a teacher. He definitely didn't have what it takes to be a leader, he hadn’t ahead enough about how tempting Ned’s prosthetic arm would have been to others. He wanted to return and rebuild everything, but was scared of meeting Ned or MJ and getting rejected again.  
  


Speaking of rejection, this was his very first time being turned down by his crush. Tony had been very clear about it and Peter understood. Tony was, as ever, haunted by his past. He didn’t want to put Peter in any danger. If only Peter knew how to tell him that he didn’t care.

Peter sometimes felt like he would die for Tony. Or sometimes, when he was very deep in love and kept dissecting his feelings, even kill for him. But rejection hurts in every form and Peter was exhausted from the pain. Even though they still shared the mattress, Tony moved away from him at night, almost as if he was terrified of Peter's presence. Also they spoke very occasionally. 

Peter’s mind felt veiled by a dark shadow and he found himself sitting in front of the house again, staring at a crowd. He even hated masturbating, because it made him think about the man he couldn’t hope for anymore, and that only made him more miserable.

Just when he felt like things were doomed to only get worse, a strange small orphan knocked on their front door at eight in the morning. Peter was the only one who got up and answered, both of his roommates were dead asleep.  
  
“A message for you,” the boy said and handed him a letter, folded and sealed with red wax. Peter didn't know the boy and since they'd never had a visitor before he approached the child with caution.  
“From who?”  
The boy simply turned the paper and pointed at a large letter A, imprinted in the seal.  
“ _A_ looks like it could be from Asgard,” he said with slight annoyance in his voice, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, “but I don't know, the girl who gave it to me looked foreign.” 

Peter lit up. “Oh right. Thanks, buddy.” He took the letter and looked at it for a few seconds, before he realized something.  
“Hey kid, where did you-” He looked up but the little youngster with sand on his face was gone.

“ _Dear Loki, Tony and Peter,_

_It is my honour to invite you to my private birthday party, tomorrow at my home in downtown Sugarland. All you need is to be in a good mood and ready to stay awake until dawn. Don't bother with presents. All drinks are on me._

_Sincerely,_

_Thor Odinson of Asgard._ ” 

Peter read the letter out loud to his friends once they were awake. When he was finished he looked up at them over the edge of the paper.

Tony was mixing his cup of coffee, pretending he was not paying attention, and Loki was standing in the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, blushing with irritation. Peter still hadn't got used to this strange, unsettled Loki.

  
“I'm not going.” Loki stated.  
“Me neither.” Tony joined him.  
“Oh c'mon you guys! We haven't been out in weeks! Are you expecting me to rot here?”  
“Peter, you're not on a vacation.” Tony growled.  
Loki added, “He's right. Also, Tony of all people shouldn't be going to parties. It's too much of a risk. Not to mention private parties are often not as private as they may seem in this city.”  
Peter sighed. “Now you're just making excuses. We've been out a few times and nothing happened. Would it be that big of a deal? And this is exactly what we need! To go out and let off a bit of steam, have fun for once. In the last few weeks it's been nothing but depressing in this house. I mean we barely talk to each other for fucks sake!”

Tony took a sip of his coffee, then looked down at it, licking his lips. Peter let him organize his thoughts for a moment and think through all of his arguments. 

“I agree with Loki,” he began slowly, ”I don't think it's a good idea for me to show up at an event like this, but you should go and have fun. And Loki should go with you.” Loki gasped dramatically, and Peter was disappointed.  
“I'm not going, Pete,” Loki said seriously. “No one's gonna force me to spend more than two minutes in the same room with my brother!”  
Tony turned to him. “You're already in the same city with him, you can't dodge him forever. C'mon, Peter is right, you should use this as an opportunity to sort things out between you two.”  
“There's nothing to sort out,” he fumed. The man was starting to resemble a small dragon.  
Tony exchanged a quick look with the boy, asking him for help, and Peter jumped to his side immediately.  
“Of course there isn't,” he nodded confidently, ”he invited you to his party, it's just a friendly visit, that's all. I'll be with you the whole time, don't worry. If we show up, he'll be pleased and we can get drunk for free, sounds good, doesn't it?” Peter grinned and could see that the walls of ice Loki built around himself had started to melt. He definitely was considering it.

“But... the last time, I refused to bend my knee for him. That’s a big thing in Asgard, could be considered treason. I'm not sure I'm in the mood for the heavy atmosphere.” He admitted.  
“There won't be any. Thor has invited you as his brother to his birthday party. It means he still cares about you, bent knee or not. After all, Sugarland is a grey area. How come you don't know this?” Peter was teasing with this last sentence and Loki looked at him with a hint of a smile.  
“I guess I've been living under a rock all this time.” he said quietly and Peter cheered his small victory in his mind.

Peter was still sad that Tony didn't want to come with them, but he realized he was right and didn't want to push him. A small, crowded pub was probably more safe than a big party. Tony said he’d be working late anyway. That tiny moment in the kitchen where they both were trying to convince Loki made Peter hope their relationship might get better in the future. Tony must have been upset about Peter's attempt to kiss him, just like he was. The boy decided to take a step back for now and cool his mind as well.

The party went well. Thor greeted them with a warm tight hug and Peter noticed how heavily he patted his brother's shoulder after the hug ended. Loki didn't want to look into his eyes at first, but then he did and smiled. It was an honest and warm smile, one of those rare ones. It made Peter wonder if there was something more between the two of them.

They spent most of their time at a bar in the kitchen. The party mostly went on behind their back while they relaxed and enjoyed their drinks. Peter wanted to ask Loki about his father and brother, but wasn't sure how to start. Loki seemed to be back to his old self. He told random jokes to make Peter laugh and asked about him and Tony. Peter told him about the time they almost kissed and Loki giggled.  
“I knew something happened, both of you were acting so weird that night, it was written all over your dumb faces!”

“It was so awkward the day after,” Peter signed desperately. “You can't even imagine!”  
Loki raised one of his dark arched eyebrows. “Oh boy, I'm sure I can… I've been there too…”  
Peter didn't say anything, he expected Loki to continue on his own, and for a split second it seemed like he was about to share more, but all of sudden Thor's enormous hands dropped on Peter's shoulders and he nearly bit off his own tongue.  
“Bad news!” Thor roared. “We're out of alcohol! I say we go to the nearest club and drink some more!”

Everyone behind them cheered.  
“You're going too, brother!”  
“Is that an order?” Loki turned to him in the middle of the rumble.  
“Oh Loki, you're the last person who would ever obey my orders,” Thor said simply, not looking at his sibling. Instead, he helped Peter off the bar chair.

The club was right across the street. It dragged attention with lots of red neon lights on inside and outside. It was around midnight, but the place was full. Their party spread out like pearls from a ripped necklace. Peter tried sticking to at least one person he knew, but they were all gone in a split second. He panicked for a moment, until he saw Thor at the bar ordering drinks. He quickly ran to him and Thor handed him a shot right away.

  
“Cheers!”  
“Cheers!” Peter raised his glass and drank a strange drink. The warm and sweet flavour was new to him. “Wow, this is really good! What is it?”  
“Hot mead,” Thor explained. “We make it at home from honey. Loki hasn't told you?”  
“Ah, I’ve only known Loki a few months,” Peter blushed. “And he doesn't like to talk too much about himself.”  
“That's a pity, when we were growing up together we were mischievous all the time, we have many crazy stories! Our father sometimes had it so hard with our antics, no wonder he was always upset! But he was a kind and fair man. I do miss him very much.”  
“I'm sorry about your father. But I have to ask… Wasn't he sometimes a bit strict with Loki? He said he was beaten a lot… is that true?” Peter asked carefully.  
Thor was surprised. “What? No, he never hit any of us, ever! Father _was_ strict, but he loved us and always punished us with chores, not bruises. Why would Loki say such things?”  
“Ehm… I'm not sure…”  
“Loki! Come here!” Thor waved above the crowd until his brother noticed him. Peter realized he had said something he probably shouldn't have and excused himself before Loki could get there.

He rushed to the bathroom, he had been fighting the urge for the past twenty minutes anyway. The red light made him tired and all of a sudden he wanted to go home and fall asleep on his mattress. He could tell Loki he was going home and leave without him. Tony could be back from work by now anyway.  
  
As Peter was planning his escape on the way to the toilet, he recognized someone in front of him. It was a woman, also rushing to the bathroom, but she wasn't one of Thor's companions. She had dark clothes, a long cloak and a braid of red hair. Peter stopped when he realized it was the woman he had seen at the Monastery on the day it was attacked. She had been near the well, then later she stood in their way and threatened Tony.

Peter had to stop and support himself on the nearest wall. The sight of her made him feel sick, but this time it wasn't from alcohol. It was triggering a memory in his brain, something dark and bloodcurdling.

Peter began to shake, cold sweat appearing on his face. Had someone accidently burned something in the kitchen or was it just his mind reminding him of the stench of the burning Monastery? That night he had been so scared his stomach ached… Oh God, how small he felt, how defenseless. He remembered Prior's hand holding his, trying to lead them to safety. The palm of his hand was so hot and sweaty, he had been scared to slip out of his grip. He kept seeing the back of his head. Father… Father… Father…

Slowly, fear changed into rage. Peter realized he wasn’t scared anymore. No, he was thirsting for blood. Without thinking, he followed the red woman. She was already in the bathroom, but the doors had a broken lock and couldn't be closed. Peter could see her through the crack taking off the cloak. He didn't have much time, this was the moment she’d least expect an attack.

He ran after her. Before she could even react, she was on the disgusting bathroom floor, trying to put herself together, but after the broken bathroom door hit the back of her head, she was clumsy and dizzy. Peter saw her hand reaching for a weapon attached to her belt, but he grabbed it and threw it away. Then he reached for her throat, wrapped his fingers around it, and put all of his force into strangling her. 

He had never felt this strong. He felt like he could crush her, break each vertebra in her neck, rip her jugular apart. She was fighting despite the intense amount of pain she must be in. Her body was trying to shake him off, she was kicking with her feet, her fingers were reaching for his eyes, but Peter was way above her and she only scratched his chin and jawline with her nails. Peter barely felt it, he only noticed it as his own blood started dripping on her face. She began losing her strength, her face turned purple and dark veins emerged on her forehead. Peter knew he was near the end.

But, the moment her eyes rolled back in her head, a memory appeared in his mind.

It was a beautiful sunset at the Monastery and Peter couldn't have been more than ten years old. Prior Stephen took him to the gardens after dinner and played catch with him. Peter was good at it. So good in fact, he wanted to punish Prior for pretending he threw a ball and then laughed as Peter searched for it in the sky. Peter threw the ball back at him with calculated force and hit him in the head. The moment he did it, regret bit his heart with its frosty teeth.  
Prior moaned and dropped to the ground. Peter ran to him in horror and immediately started crying and apologizing. But Prior wasn't hurt. He hugged the boy and then wrestled with him on the ground in a lighthearted and playful manner, just like how fathers played with their sons. Peter was laughing and screaming, begging Stephen to release him and to stop the tickling.

“Don't be so loud, they'll hear us,” Stephen said and they both stood up and dusted the sand off their robes. Then they looked at each other, remembering they were respectable monks again, and the magic was gone.

But in that moment, Prior looked at him with such warmth and softness in his eyes. Peter returned to that evening often in his memories. Prior hadn't once told the boy he loved him, but that day he had said it with his eyes.

Peter let go of the woman. He crawled back as if she was poisonous and reached for a tiled wall behind him. She curled into a ball and coughed loudly and hoarsely. Her neck was violet with the ugly marks of his fingers. Peter stared at her, frightened of his own actions. She was looking at him, but there was no fear in her eyes, only renouncement and pain. When she stopped coughing, she tried to say something, but there were no words coming out of her mouth. Her lips moved and Peter read what she was saying. Rapidly, he scurried from the bathroom.

He stumbled around the red bar, rushed through the crowd, ran past Thor and Loki arguing and yelling at each other, and pushed the heavy front door to get out. When he was out in the fresh air, he felt dizzy and his body trembled. But before he knew, he started vomiting.

He felt helpless, disgusted and couldn't hear anything. All he could make out was a group of strangers laughing at him, thinking he was just another drunk kid.


	13. Bridge between us

After the events at the club, things developed quickly. When Loki found Peter outside, the boy was bent over with his hands on his knees, standing in front of a puddle of his own vomit. Loki got scared, thinking Peter drank too much. He said he’d bring him some water, but Peter grabbed his arm and started to maunder between loud sobs.  
  
“We have to leave, it's not safe anymore,” he cried.  
“What do you mean, Pete?”  
“The people who are after Tony are in the city!”

By then, Thor had found them. They hid in the closest dark alley while Loki explained what happened. Peter told them about the woman in the bathroom and Thor sent one of his men to go and find her. The man was back in an instant to report the bathroom was empty.   
  
“We need to warn Tony.” Peter said.  
“Alright, but you're staying with Thor,” Loki ordered. “If they see you, they'll suspect Tony's with you. He's the last person you should be seeing right now. I'll go and get him.”  
“Bring him to the garage,” Thor said and Loki simply nodded. Then Thor gathered his group.  
“Peter, I need you to take a walk around the city with my friends. Get lost in the crowd. Understand? My friends will take you to a safe place.”  
“Okay,” Peter nodded nervously, and did as he was asked. His heart was beating like he just ran a race. He started to realize this stupid mistake of his wold turn his life around for a second time and it made him sick again.  
  
Thor's friends acted like nothing happened. They were good at pretending to be just a group of people having a fun Friday night. Peter barely realized he was surrounded by a number of professional bodyguards, not just friends. Of course. He was still new to this ugly world.

It was around one in the morning when they arrived at a small, but still very luxurious, house at the end of Sugarland’s downtown. Until now, they had walked around the city in the busiest streets. This city district was quiet, almost abandoned. No music was playing from any windows and the streets were empty.

The house had a small, metal gate and very small windows on the front, shuttered with heavy wooden sunblinds. Three of Peter's protectors went inside first and searched the house, then gave them a sign for the rest to follow. Inside, it was cold and dark. And except for furniture covered with white cloth, there was nothing there.

“What's going to happen now?” Peter asked the people shyly.  
“We'll wait.” Was his only answer.

  
It took about a half an hour until Tony and Loki arrived. Tony looked disturbed, but Loki was calm and somehow acting professional.

“Alright, I know it's late, but we have to act. Tony and Peter, you're gonna stay here for a couple of days. If the situation doesn’t get better, we'll have to come up with another solution. I'll ask my contacts to search the city, but be prepared to leave at any moment. Is the car ready to drive long distances? Tony?”

Tony, who was lost in thought, suddenly looked up. “Ehm, I'm not sure, someone should look into it, maybe it's going to need a bit of care. Check the engine, take a look at the undercarriage…”  
“Alright, Thor, could you spare any of your people?” Loki turned to his brother, ignoring Tony's lack of focus.  
“Of course. Leave it to me. It takes a few days to get from Sugarland to Asgard, and the car should be ready for it, but in the worst case scenario, you could use our cars-”

“Asgard? Why are you expecting us to go there?” Loki suddenly snapped.  
“But where else would you like to go, brother? Tony is a wanted man, he can't just go to any city. Or are you planning to wander in the desert until you are mobbed by wild clans? Asgard is a safe place and it's your home.” Thor seemed calm, but his voice was firm and defensive. Suddenly there was something intimidating about him and that something only irritated the hell out of his brother.  
“I'm not gonna discuss this with you. I need a couple of days to figure it out.” Loki stated. But before he left the house, he turned to Peter and Tony. “You guys should get some rest. You'll be needing it.”

Thor nodded seriously. “He's right. Settle in for a while, my friend Freya will bring you some food as soon as possible.”

  
And they left them on their own. Peter was shocked by how few instructions they were given. He turned to Tony, but he was just leaning against a blank wall with his arms crossed, staring at his feet in silence.

They found a bedroom upstairs with a large king size bed. Tony took off the white cloth covering it and Peter found pillows and blankets in the nearest closet. No one said a word and they lied down next to each other as if it was the most natural thing. Peter realized somewhere in the haze of exhaustion and fear and alcohol that he had never slept on this comfortable of a mattress and his head had never had such a heavenly soft pillow under it. He was dead asleep within minutes.

A few hours later, Peter woke up to a strange noise in the house.   
“Tony?” he immediately reached for him, but his hand only found ruffled sheets with a hint of warmth left of Tony's body. The boy jumped from the bed right away and ran down the stairs to the living room, where he found what he was worried about.  


Tony, fully dressed, was packing his things into a bag. The lights were off and he looked like a sneaking thief. As Peter rushed into the room, Tony looked at him.  
“What are you doing, Tony?” Peter turned on the light swiftly.  
The man's eyes were cold and lifeless. “I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up.”  
“You're running away? Tony, what the fuck?!”  
He was insufferably calm. “I'm sorry, Pete. I really wanted to make this work. This... you know... this family thing we have going on. But let's face it, it's just a silly dream. I can't let more people get involved and I have to leave before someone gets hurt. You see, I can't let myself believe that I can be more than just an outlaw. It only costs other people's lives.”

Peter was next to him in the bat of an eye. He grabbed Tony's tanned hand and held it tightly.  
“I told you a million times already, and I'll tell you again. I don't care about the danger. Actually, no one does. Do you think I, or Loki, or Thor, are stupid? We know what it means to be around you, but we are still ready to stick around and fight, because it's worth it. Because we… because I…”  
“Pete.”  
The boy licked his lips anxiously. He raised his hand, but he stopped in the middle of a gesture and punched Tony in the chest instead. The punch was heavy and full of blame. Peter’s eyes watered against his will and he immediately rubbed them off.

“Ah… anyway,” he sighed,”I don't think you want to be leaving tonight. You wouldn't be able to make it too far. Who knows, maybe some other naive novice would find you and help you. As if one wasn't enough... Even though I'm not a novice, you changed me, Tony. I don't even know who I am anymore.”  
“Don't say that. You do. At your age, it's normal to-”  
“Is it normal to hurt people? Is it normal to lust for blood? Because it made me feel so sick I still want to vomit when I think about it. I still feel her pulse on my hands!” At the last sentence his voice broke.

Tony got confused. “Peter, what are you talking about?”

The boy took a deep breath. He had no idea where to start, but eventually, he told Tony everything. About the red woman, and how he wanted to kill her. How, at the last moment, he stopped himself from strangling her.

  
“Peter…” Tony sighed after the boy finished his story.  
“Don't say anything, please!” Peter protested. “I know what you want to say. That wanting revenge is natural. That we have all done things we’re not proud of. But the truth is… this whole time I believed I'm better than everyone else. I genuinely thought that there's no way I could be led astray. But I'm just as dirty as the men who attacked me and Ned a few weeks ago. Just as sinful...”

  
Tony tried to hug him, but Peter pushed him away. This time the boy looked at him, dead serious. They were the eyes of a man, not a boy.

“Tell me, Tony, why did you save me from the Monastery? What reason did I give you to not let me burn there with the rest? You knew me for about a week. We were far from calling each other friends. You knew I'd slow you down, and I'm sure I wasn't the first person you wanted to save.” They were both silent for a moment. Peter was demanding honesty, and the other man gave it to him.  
“I'm not sure, really,” Tony began slowly. “Maybe I was just sick of seeing people die for me and feeling helpless. Perhaps I thought that by being able to save I could one day save myself too. But… to be honest, there was just something about you, Pete. Something strong and unique, that made me realize you're the last person on earth who deserved to end that way. I cared about Stephen, but later I realized I care about you...”

“Then let me save you.” Peter put his hand at the back of Tony's neck and pulled him closer for a kiss.

Tony hesitated for a split second, but then he melted in Peter's arms and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Since it was the first time Peter was kissed, he moaned with shock, but Tony's hands around his waist pulled him closer and he yielded to this new exciting, wet experience. His body shivered with pleasure and his mind was in bliss from Tony's intense and long-desired attention.

The kiss felt like eternity, but it was over in a moment. Tony still held him close and Peter tried to hide his raging erection.  
“S-sorry about this…” Peter started to freak out, cheeks as red as an apple, trying to cover it with his hand, but Tony stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Let's go to bed.”


End file.
